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BY 

lEiHuorJ^B iHarttttt 

AUTHOR OF 

“ Work of the Harksborough Committee'' 



Frontispiece by Hudson 


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LIBRARY of OONCiRESS 
Two Copies Hecetvtfl 

APR 9 1808 

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Copyright, 1908, 

BY 

BROADWAY PUBLISHING COMPANY 


All rights reserved. 








To 

My Wife 


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CONTENTS 


CHAPTER I. page. 

The Peacemaker 1 

CHAPTER II. 

Shoddy or Cloth 13 

CHAPTER III. 

Set Apart 29 

CHAPTER IV. 

Broth, Very Thin Broth 41 

CHAPTER V. 

Take My Silver and My Gold 60 

CHAPTER VI. 

I Clum In 73 

CHAPTER VII. 

The Counterfeiter 84 

CHAPTER VIII. 

Sam Runkle’s Opinions 98 

CHAPTER IX. 

The Meeting of the Women's Society Ill 

CHAPTER X. 

Mr. Osborn's Recreation 126 

CHAPTER XI. 

Schemes and Scheming........ 142 


it 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER XII. page. 

In tlie Name of the Holy Trinity Cut All Loose. 153 


CHAPTER XIII. 

Street Preaching 167 

CHAPTER XIV. 

News from Cranston 181 

CHAPTER XV. 

The Crippled Saint 194 

CHAPTER XVI. 

The Transformed Minister 208 

CHAPTER XVII. 

The Rehearsal 221 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Wilt Thou Have This Man? 232 

CHAPTER XIX. 

In the Stonekill Valley 245 


THE CHRISTMAN 


CHAPTER I. 

TH]^ Tl^ACtMAKtR- 

*TIease set it over there, Mr. Hazzard,’’ said 
Mrs. Rhyder, as she leaned her head on one 
side, to see what effect the replacing of a large 
potted plant would have on the general ar- 
rangements of pulpit decorations. 

The young man who had been addressed 
lifted the plant to the place indicated and 
looked up for approval. 

"‘A little further back,” she ordered. 
‘‘There, that will do.” 

“Mrs. Rhyder, don’t you think that it would 
be better to have the desk removed?” asked a 
young woman who was arranging some flow- 
ers on a small table. “We could make every- 
thing look so much prettier without it — : — ” 


2 


THE CHRISTMAN 


‘‘No, that would never do,” broke in Mrs. 
Gaddis, a tall woman with pronounced fea- 
tures. “The new minister might need it; be- 
sides, the parsons who are coming to install 
him may want a place to put their sermons and 
things. I can’t see, for the life of me, why a 
man called of the Lord should use a pulpit. 
This popping up from behind a desk is too 
much like a corpse sittting bolt upright at a 
funeral, or a Jack in the box. Pulpiteering is, 
to my mind, the next thing to denying the 
Lord.” 

“They tell me that Mr. Osborn uses a manu- 
script,” remarked Mr. Hazzard, “so I suppose 
he’ll want some sort of a desk.” 

“Well, I can’t help it,” returned Mrs. Gad- 
dis. “He may use what he likes, but reading 
isn’t preaching just the same, and you can 
never make it so, any more than you can make 
sand into sugar by sweetening it.” 

“We can easily arrange the plants and flow- 
ers on both sides of the platform so as to look 
even,” said Mrs. Rhyder, “and leave plenty of 
room for the ministers. Seldon! won’t you 
please move the desk a little, so that we can 
bank up the flowers in front ?” 


THE CHRISTMAN 


3 


The sexton took hold of the desk and, by a 
series of jerks, drew it back as he was ordered. 

Just at that moment a bald-headed man 
came forward with a large basket of greens 
and placed them on the front seat. He had 
evidently heard the conversation, for he turned 
to Mrs. Gaddis with a bright smile, and said : 

‘T wasn’t at home the Sunday that Mr. 
Osborn preached, but Miss Clevering tells me 
that he is a godly young man. If that is so I 
shall be satisfied, whether he uses a manuscript 
or notes, or speaks offhand. You know they 
say that ministers always have three heads to 
their sermons, and that, if you watch closely 
enough, you can tell what they are, even when 
they are not announced. I never paid particu- 
lar attention to the matter, but there is a sense 
in which every pulpit address is divided into 
three parts, or ought to be ; the first is the study 
part, where the preacher meets God and learns 
His will; the second is the parish part, where 
he meets experiences and learns the needs of 
the people, and the third is the church part, 
where he meets immortal souls and gives to 
them a divine message. Talk about proclaim- 
ing the Gospel, why no man living can do that 


4 


THE CHRISTMAN 


by simply reading well-written manuscripts or 
making pious speeches. Personality has a great 
deal more to do with it than scholarship or ora- • 
tory. A minister’s business is to win men to 
God, and he can’t do that without having a 
winning personality. Mark my word, if Mr. 
Osborn is a godly man, we’ll all learn to love 
him. Miss Clevering, I think that if you and 
Mrs. Rhyder would mat more greens around 
those flower pots and cover them, it would 
look better.” 

Miss Clevering gathered up some leaves and, 
pressing them about the bare earthenware, 
asked, ‘'How’s that, Mr. Hartwell?” 

The man who had just spoken expressed his 
approval, and she turned and inquired of Mrs. 
Rhyder whether Mr. Crouch understood that 
he was to drive over to Cranston the next day 
and meet the new minister and his mother. 

“You better believe I did,” came an answer 
from the church entrance. 

Every one turned and saw Mr. Crouch him- 
self standing in the doorway. He had on an 
old felt hat and was chewing the end of an un- 
lit cigar. Noticing that he was the center of 


THE CHRISTMAN 


5 


observation, he removed his hat and walked 
down the aisle. 

‘T always have respect for the cloth when 
I find that it's genuine," he asserted, as he 
drew his cigar from his mouth. ‘'They tell me 
that this here specimen that we're going to 
have is fresh from the factory and all right. 
Ha! ha! I wouldn't miss the first pull on him 
for anything. It won't take me long to find 
out whether he's full breadth or single, or 
whether he's cotton or wool. I reckon he'll 
turn out to be shoddy. Ha! ha! ha! Made 
up of theological rag tag and clay and all that 
sort of thing, and as narrow as welting. Ha! 
ha! ha! See if it isn't so. I won't be a mile 
on my way back before I find out what he's 
good for. Sister Gaddis, I understand that 
you're going to keep and feed them both. 
Shall I drive them around to your house first 
before I show them the parsonage ?" 

The question evidently annoyed the person 
to whom it was addressed, for she frowned 
and then glanced toward Mr. Hartwell. 

“Yes, and if I'm not at home," she answered, 
“just you step around to the back and rap on 
the window. Phoebe will let you in." 


6 


THE CHRISTMAN 


‘T got kind o’ used to ministers,” she ex- 
plained to Mr. Hartwell, in a low tone of voice. 
^Ta always kept open house for ’em, as you 
might say, and I never want to go back on 
Pa’s training. Besides, most folks don’t know 
how to get along with ’em. They think that 
they’ve got to dress up and be trim and stiff. 
Children are most generally afraid of ’em. 
The way to treat ’em is to act natural. Say 
what you think.” 

‘‘I understood that Mrs. Treadwell was ex- 
pecting to entertain our new pastor,” he re- 
marked. ‘T am sure that she told me so, but 
I presume that you have arranged with her, so 
that it will be all right.” 

‘'No, I haven’t arranged with her or any- 
body else,” Mrs. Gaddis returned. “I just 
thought that, as I was all ready, I might as well 
do it. It won’t make any difference. Folks 
that want to feed him will have chances 
enough.” 

Mr. Hartwell said nothing more, but in a 
few moments left the church, going directly 
to Mrs. Treadwell’s house; he communicated 
to her the information that he had received. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


7 


She gazed at him in astonishment and then bit 
her lips in suppressed anger. 

‘Xeonora! Leonora!” she called. 

Her daughter came directly from the 
kitchen, wearing a blue-checked apron. Paus- 
ing in the doorway, she folded her bare arms 
and waited for her mother to speak. 

‘‘What do you think of this?” Mrs. Tread- 
well asked. “After all the cooking that weVe 
done, and all the preparations that weVe made, 
Anna Gaddis says that she’s going to have the 
new minister and his mother at her house, and 
I put in my invitation two weeks ago.” 

Turning to Mr. Hartwell, she added, “I 
wonder who’s going to have the say about it ?” 

“I rather think that there will be two people 
that will have the say,” he returned. “One is 
Mrs. Treadwell’s natural self, and the other is 
Mrs. Treadwell’s better self; and after think- 
ing it all over, it will be Mrs. Treadwell’s bet- 
ter self that will win the day. Don’t you think 
so?” 

She tossed her head in reply, and, looking at 
her daughter, said : “Well, Leonora, you won’t 
have to work all the evening on your new 
dress any way. That’s a comfort. As to the 


8 


THE CHRISTMAN 


silk quilt, if you haven’t taken it down yet, you 
needn’t put it on the spare chamber bed until 
it’s known who’s going to sleep there.” Then, 
as if a new idea had come to her, she suddenly 
asked the caller : 

‘‘Why couldn’t Anna Gaddis take Mrs. Os- 
born and let me have the minister?” 

“ ’Twon’t do! ’T won’t do!” he answered, 
with a shake of the head. “Better wait and 
take them both later. ‘Love seeketh not her 
own,’ you know, and there mustn’t be any dif- 
ferences. There are some who will sow tares 
quick enough, without our helping them along. 
I hear that he’s a good man, and I depend on 
you folks here to stand by him, as Mrs. Hart- 
well and I intend to do. We’ve had altogether 
too much bickering in the past. It isn’t any 
wonder that God withholds his blessing. There 
hasn’t been a revival in our church now going 
on eighteen years. Think of it.” 

“We don’t want any revivals or ‘showers 
of blessing,’ as they call them. Leastwise, I 
don’t,” she retorted. “Showers will never do 
any good where the ground is rocky. What 
we need more than anything else is some good 
hard sledge-hammer stone-breaking. If the 


THE CHRISTMAN 


9 


new minister don't tell some folks that I know 
what their sins are, and make them squirm, 
he may be as good as gold, but he won't 
change matters a bit. I tell you, Mr. Hart- 
well, we've got to have some repentings or 
some funerals before we can expect revivals." 

‘‘Well ! well ! well ! you may be right," he re- 
turned. “Repentance is essential, but so is 
long suffering. The two go well together, but 
sometimes they're hard to couple." He paused 
for a moment, and then added, “I suppose I 
can call that little matter about entertaining 
the minister settled, so I'll step over and tell 
Mrs. Gaddis that you're somewhat hurried in 
your dressmaking, and are much obliged to her 
for offering to entertain Mr. Osborn and his 
mother." 

Without waiting for a reply, he picked up 
his hat and left. 

The confident way in which he had assumed 
Mrs. Treadwell's message quite took her 
breath away, and she made no reply. He had 
scarcely left the house, however, before she 
realized that her silence had been a consent, 
and that no course was open to her but to ac- 


10 


THE CHRISTMAN 


cept the situation with as good grace as she 
could. 

‘T wish that Mrs. Gaddis wouldn't try and 
run things all her own way," Leonora mut- 
tered, and she turned again to her work. ‘‘The 
whole thing was settled two weeks ago at the 
ladies' meeting, and every one expects that 
you're going to entertain them." 

“It wouldn't be best to hurt Anna Gaddis," 
returned her mother. “You know that she 
was baptized only two years ago, and she has 
trouble enough living a Christian life with that 
husband of hers. It would just please him to 
have the church offend her. He'd have a new 
excuse for calling us all hypocrites. No, Dea- 
con Hartwell is right. It won't do! It won’t 
do!" 

“Then I suppose that we've got to submit to 
all kinds of injustice," the girl answered, “just 
because a meddlesome woman hasn't been a 
church member more than two years, and an 
unreasonable man chooses to carp and snarl at 
Christians. You may think that it's right, 
but I don't. There’s that cream cake that you 
made, and there's that large roast that we can 
never eat ourselves. Father isn't much of a 


THE CHRISTMAN 


II 


meat hand, and you don’t eat anything but 
bread and vegetables, and there are all those 
crullers and custards. Think how we’ve 
worked the last few days cleaning up the house 
and getting ready; and now we’re told that 
they’re not coming to us, and no reason is 
given except that it doesn’t suit Mrs. Gaddis. 
Have we all got to fall down and worship 
Mrs. Gaddis ? Suppose her husband does talk, 
nobody cares what he says. Besides I heard 
him declare only last Sunday that he was as 
good a Christian as any one, and that he’d a 
great mind to join the church, only that church 
members were so narrow.” 

hope that he will never join the church 
until he has met with a change of heart, Leo- 
nora,” her mother replied. ‘‘He isn’t the kind 
of a Christian that will help Anna Gaddis 
much. As for the cake and things, we can 
manage to use them some way. Suppose you 
go out in the garden and pick a bunch of flow- 
ers. We’ll send them over as a kind of wel- 
come to Mrs. Osborn.” 

“Flowers !” exclaimed the girl with an angry 
toss of her head, “what are flowers? Never 
you mind. I’ll get even with Mrs. Gaddis, 


12 


The: Christman 


see if I don’t. She’s bound to have the 
Sunday School go to Simmon’s Grove this 
summer. I heard her tell Mrs. Knibbs about 
it, but I’ll fix it so that the teachers will vote to 
have the picnic at Spring Cove. I don’t care a 
straw which place the children go to, but I 
won’t have that woman dictating. She hates 
Spring Cove, and I know it.” 

‘‘Don’t make trouble, Leonora,” returned 
Mrs. Treadwell. “Trying to get even with 
people doesn’t pay; besides, your father 
wouldn’t approve of your creating differences. 
You know he always stands for peace.” 

The girl pouted in evidence of her continued 
indignation and went upstairs. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


13 


CHAPTER IL 

SHODDY OR CI.OTH. 

Mr. Crouch was considerably disturbed over 
his trip to Cranston. Not that he objected to 
going; on the contrary, he was pleased at the 
prospect of being the first person to meet the 
new minister. What ruffled his mind was the 
fact that Mrs. Osborn was to accompany her 
son, and he felt sure that it would be diffi- 
cult for him to draw out the young man’s the- 
ological opinions with her in the carriage, and 
he wondered whether it might not be possible 
to have her driven from the station in a sepa- 
rate conveyance, or whether she might not be 
induced to take the trolley cars. Such an ar- 
rangement would leave him free to ask all the 
questions he desired without interruption. 
But he could think of no satis-factory reason 
that could be given for her so doing, and he 


14 


THE CHRISTMAN 


was obliged to dismiss the idea from his mind. 
No, he must bring them both back to Ruther- 
ford himself. 

It might, however, help him considerably if 
he could induce some woman to accompany 
him. She could keep Mrs. Osborn engaged 
in conversation, while he talked with the min- 
ister. So he called on Mrs. Gaddis. 

On being invited into her sitting room he 
threw his hat on the table, and took the most 
comfortable chair that he could find. “You 
see,’’ he began, “you’re going to have the old 
lady here at your house with the dominie, and 
it’s no more than polite for you to go to Crans- 
ton with me and meet her. I’ll hire Sam Run- 
kle’s two-seater, so as we’ll all have plenty of 
room. On the way back you can get acquaint- 
ed with the old lady and I’ll have a chance to 
pump the dominie. See? But if you go over 
with me let me give you a bit of advice. Don’t 
let her play old hen because she’s from the 
city. If she cackles, and shows her feathers, 
and gets to be condescending in her way of 
talking, on account of her chick being a 
preacher, you let on that it’s our folks that’s 
giving him the job and it’s our folks that’s 


THE CHRISTMAN 


15 


paying him his wages, and that we won’t have 
any mothering business from her.” 

‘'No! I won’t do anything of the sort,” Mrs. 
Gaddis retorted. “The minister and his 
mother are coming here to my house, and are 
going to be under my roof, as you might say, 
and I’m going to treat ’em decent. So there 
now. I thought that Mrs. Treadwell would be 
awful mad about my taking ’em, but she was 
over this morning to thank me for relieving 
her of the responsibility, and to bring a cream 
cake that, she said, she made on purpose for 
’em. Mrs. Treadwell says that her husband 
has met Mrs. Osborn, and that she’s a woman 
the whole church can respect, and I’m going 
to respect her from the start whether she’s my 
kind or not. That’s my answer, and you’ve 
got it plain.” 

“But you will go along with me, or won’t 
you?” he asked. 

“Yes, I’ll go along, if you’ll drive Walt, over 
too,” she answered. “He’s got a lot of things 
to do at Cranston, and will come back on the 
trolley. I won’t go ’less you take him.” 

“There isn’t room for both of you coming 


i6 


THE CHRISTMAN 


back,” he explained, ‘'but I don’t know as I ob- 
ject to driving him over.” 

The carryall had not been waiting long at 
the railway station in Cranston when the whis- 
tle of the locomotive was heard and there was 
a general movement on the platform. 

"You better not hang around any longer, 
Walt.,” said Mrs. Gaddis to her husband. "If 
they see you with us they’ll think that they’ve 
turned you out of your seat in the carriage.” 

"Nonsense,” returned Mr. Gaddis, "I’ll be 
missing as soon as they show up. You needn’t 
let on that I came over with you. It’s worth 
a cigar to see what they’re like. Crouch, I’ll 
bet you a smoke that the parson’ll have the 
regulation ministerial smirk, and that his gear 
’ll be as black as the ace of spades. I know 
the type. They’re all alike, buckram grins and 
pious twang. She’ll strut and he’ll whine. 
Bah ! I hate the whole lot of them.” 

The train steamed into the station and there 
was a general hustle and bustle. Men and 
women with bags and bundles and canes and 
umbrellas left the cars and hurried to the 
street, or waited to greet their friends. Em- 
ployees of the road busied themselves loading 


THE CHRISTMAN 


17 


and unloading trunks and boxes; hackmen so- 
licited employment; weary travelers in caps 
and dusters came out on the car platforms to 
stretch their aching limbs and get a breath of 
fresh air. 

Mr. Crouch and his friends scanned the 
faces of the passengers who left the cars, but 
the minister and his mother were nowhere to 
be seen. It appeared evident that they were 
not on the train, for the crowds were thinning 
out and the conductor was signaling to the en- 
gineer to start. 

''What shall we do?” Mrs. Gaddis asked. 
"They haven’t come.” 

Just at that moment a young man stepped 
up to the party, and, lifting his cap to Mrs. 
Gaddis, turned to the two men and said, "I beg 
your pardon, gentlemen, but can you tell me 
where I can take the trolley to Rutherford?” 

The speaker was dressed in a dark checked 
business suit, carried a light colored overcoat 
on his arm, and held an alligator-skin bag in 
one hand and a cane and umbrella in the other. 
His frank, pleasing countenance and easy man- 
ners, won immediate consideration, and Mr, 
Gaddis answered ; 


THE CHRISTMAN 


i8 


‘'Rutherford! Rutherford! Why, the cars 
run only every hour, and one has just gone 
over. Tm expecting to ride back by them later 
myself.” 

Mr. Crouch, who had an eye to business, and 
who had been disappointed in not meeting the 
minister, intimated that perhaps arrangements 
could be made by which he could drive him to 
the village. 

“All right!” returned the young man. “How 
much do you charge ? I have a lady with me, 
who is in the waiting room, and there are a 
couple of trunks.” 

Mrs. Gaddis had been looking closely at the 
traveler while he was talking, and before Mr. 
Crouch could indicate the amount of money 
that he would ask for his services, she in- 
quired : 

“Be you the new minister ?” 

The young man laughed, and turning to her, 
lifted his cap again, and said: “If you mean 
Mr. Osborn, I plead guilty. This is Mrs. ” 

“My name is Gaddis,” she declared, “and 
this is Mr. Gaddis and this is Mr. Crouch. We 
were looking for you.” 

The two men stared at the traveler in sur- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


T9 


prise, and only gained their composure when 
they felt the warm pressure of his hand in a 
hearty greeting. 

‘‘Just wait a moment,” he said. ‘T want you 
to meet my mother,” and he was gone. 

‘T swan!” said Mr. Crouch. “I thought 
that he was one of those ’ere drummers. He 
don’t fill the bill of a dominie by a long sight.” 

Before Mrs. Gaddis could make up her 
mind whether social usage required her to fol- 
low the young man and meet his mother, he 
had returned. A bright little woman accom- 
panied him. One would have thought from 
her youthful appearance, quick step and viva- 
cious manner that she was not over thirty 
years of age, but the gray hairs that showed 
beneath her bonnet, and a certain maturity of 
expression that was stamped on her face, pro- 
claimed the fact that she was nearer fifty. Al- 
though years had robbed her cheeks of their 
glow and had left their marks upon her fore- 
head, she had not lost the cheerfulness of her 
girlhood, and she stepped forward with evi- 
dent pleasure, and greeted the party with a 
winning grace, that at once set them at ease. 

It was quickly arranged that she and her 


20 


THE CHRISTMAN 


son should start immediately for Rutherford, 
with Mr. Crouch and Mrs. Gaddis, while Mr. 
Gaddis should remain and look after the 
trunks. 

The road from Cranston to Rutherford was 
beautiful. After following the trolley tracks 
for some distance it diverged and ran for 
nearly a mile through well-kept farm and pas- 
ture lands, and then entered a wooded district 
that was always shady and cool. Leaving the 
protection of the overhanging trees, the path 
led along the edge of the Woonscotten River 
to the Cranston Aqueduct, and then around 
the brow of a hill, where it turned to the east 
and went directly to the village of Rutherford. 

The view from the hill was one of the most 
attractive in the neighborhood, and was sought 
by strangers in their drives and rambles. For 
many miles to the east could be seen stretches 
of cultivated land divided by fences and dot- 
ted with farm-houses and barns; while to the 
southwest the buildings of Cranston and the 
high chimneys, the shops and factories, spoke 
of business enterprise and activity. 

The party had gone a quarter of a mile on 
their return journey when Mr. Crouch blurted 


THE CHRISTMAN 


21 


out in his rough way: say, dominie, what 

do you think about that Slauson trial that’s 
going on in the Methodist Church? Do you 
take sides with the Bishop or against him?” 

‘‘Slauson! Slauson! I really don’t know to 
what you refer,” Osborn returned. “Yes, now 
I remember. Oh! that didn’t amount to any- 
thing. A mere difference of opinion regard- 
ing some church usage. Dr. Overton, I be- 
lieve, claimed that Slauson overstepped the 
bounds of propriety in a matter of privilege. 
I was quite busy at the time preparing for 
exams, and didn’t give the matter much atten- 
tion. What fine roads you have here! We 
haven’t struck a mud hole since we left Crans- 
ton, and there are no ruts!” 

“Git ap! Git ap!” was the only response. 

The horses jogged along for some time with- 
out increasing their speed, when Mr. Crouch 
cleared his throat and said : “I heard tell over 
at Cranston that Dominie Sanford’s declaring 
that there’s two, and perhaps four prophets 
that had a hand in writing the book of Isaiah. 
What do you think about that?” Then he 
made a clicking noise with his mouth to stimu- 


22 


THE CHRISTMAN 


late the speed of the horses, and waited the 
minister’s answer. 

‘'Well, we had that matter up for discussion 
in our class some time ago,” the young man 
replied, “and I made up my mind that, if God 
had a hand in writing the book. I’d be satisfied 
to accept it, whether he chose to use one, two 
or four men as his instruments. It seems to 
me, Mr. Crouch, that the whole matter sim- 
mers itself down to the question as to whether 
the Bible contains God’s message to us or not.” 

“Git ap! Git ap there!” broke in Mr. Crouch. 
“That there off horse don’t know what a 
driver means lest he slashes him with a stick, 
and striking a dumb beast is against my princi- 
ples.” 

He lifted the reins and brought them down 
again over the backs of the plodding animals 
with a snap and then clicked with his mouth 
as before. 

Mr. Osborn tried to draw his companion out 
on the subject of trees, birds, horses and crops, 
but it was in vain; Mr. Crouch remained quiet 
save as he answered the minister’s questions in 
monosyllables. He seemed so preoccupied 


THE CHRISTMAN 


23 


that the young man determined to say nothing 
more. 

After a period of silence, Mr. Crouch 
asked: ‘‘Dominie, what do you think about 
that whale swallowing Jonah? My wife tells 
me that Deacon Hartwell said in prayer meet- 
ing last week that he believed the whole story 
just as it is given in the Bible, only the whale 
wasn’t a whale, but some other kind of sea mon- 
ster. I don’t go much myself to prayer meet- 
ing, but that’s what my wife told me the dea- 
con said.” 

Mr. Osborn turned and looked keenly at his 
questioner, as if to discover the reason of his 
curiosity. Then he said, “Do you believe that 
story?” 

“No, I can’t say as I do,” Crouch returned 
with considerable positiveness. “It isn’t com- 
mon sense for a fish to gulp down a man, and 
keep him alive under water, and then let him 
go. I wouldn’t take Jonah’s word for it, if he 
told me himself.” 

“Would you take God’s word for it?” the 
minister asked. 

“Git ap ! Git ap there !” Crouch called 
out to the horses in an angry tone of voice. 


^4 


THE CHRISTMAN 


‘‘Why in , why don’t the beasts step up! 

Crawling along at this rate 1” 

“It seems to me,” continued Mr. Osborn, 
“that the account we have of Jonah’s life con- 
tains a great lesson. It is so easy to see the 
difficulties in the story that most of us lose 
sight of its message. To me the entire book 
is a call to absolute obedience, and a warning 
against shirking responsibilities. The fact that 
God cares for his servants enough to set them 
right when they go wrong, should make us all 
very thankful, whether he uses sailors, or sea 
monsters, or, indeed, anything else. Don’t you 
think so, Mr. Crouch?” 

“I suppose so,” the man returned. “Git 
ap! Git ap there! I never saw anything like 
them horses.’* 

“As to my views regarding the historicity of 
the account given in the Bible, I may have oc- 
casion to refer to them later, when an oppor- 
tunity will be given to define my position ex- 
actly.” 

The practical turn that the young man had 
given to his answers, and his polite refusal to 
commit himself in private conversation, an- 
noyed Crouch, and he wondered whether his 


THE CHRISTMAN 


^5 


motives were not discovered, or, at least, sus- 
pected. Several times he opened his mouth for 
further interrogation, but changed his mind 
and addressed the horses. Furthermore, the 
minister's way of looking for lessons made him 
uncomfortable, for he feared lest he might be 
called upon to recognize the claims of Christ 
on his life, which would be embarrassing. 

A turn in the road suddenly caused Crouch 
to realize that he was nearing Rutherford, and 
that he had failed to secure a single statement 
that might be repeated and criticised. He had 
heard snatches of conversation from the back 
seat, and knew that Mrs. Gaddis and Mrs. Os- 
born had no difficulty in entertaining each 
other. He was not, however, aware that Mrs. 
Osborn had, by her charming manner, and per- 
sonal interest in everything, won the love and 
respect of her companion. 

The boast that he had made on the preced- 
ing day came fresh to his mind and he deter- 
mined to make one more effort and compel the 
young minister to compromise himself. 

‘‘Do you know. Dominie," he began, “the 
man that we had before you. Taller was his 
name — she joined under him," and he pointed 


26 


THE CHRISTMAN 


over his shoulder at Mrs. Gaddis with his 
thumb. “He was a right pleasant sort of fel- 
low in his way, though I didn’t take much to 
him. He was always urging people to repent 
and that sort of thing, you know. Well, one 
Sunday he preached on something or ruther, I 
don’t just ’member what his subject was, but 
he went clean back on the fire and brimstone 
theory, and said right out that there wasn’t 
any such thing as ” 

“Did he deny future punishment?” broke in 
Mr. Osborn. 

“No! no! I can’t say that he exactly did 
that, but some of our folks thought that he 
wasn’t just orthodox. Near as I could make 
out, he had an idea that fire wouldn’t have any 
effect on a soul, as a soul was a spirit, and 
couldn’t be burned. Next day I asked him 
straight whether he was prepared to assert that 
fire was powerless to injure a man’s spiritual 
nature, and he said that it was. The old mar- 
tyrs, he declared, were burned at the stake, and 
while their bodies were being consumed, their 
souls were growing clearer and brighter. As 
for brimstone, well, he didn’t have much use 
for that either without the fire. The fact was 


THE CHRISTMAN 


27 


he looked on the whole thing as symbolical. 
Git ap! Git ap there! Hell didn’t seem to 
cut much ice with him anyhow !” 

Osborn laughed at his companion’s conclud- 
ing remark, but made no reply. After a few 
moments Crouch asked directly, ‘T say. Domi- 
nie, do you believe in hell, or don’t you ?” 

‘"Hell!” the minister repeated. ‘‘Why, of 
course I do. There is power enough in a keg 
of powder under the tradesman’s counter to 
blow up his whole store and destroy his stock, 
and there’s hell enough in human nature to 
make havoc of every one of us if we are not 
restrained by the grace of God. I tell you, 
my friend, it’s just that law of sin, that I call 
hell in embryo, that makes so much trouble for 
us all, and that led God to have compassion 
on us, and send His son to die for us. You 
and I need Christ, and it all depends upon us 
whether we gain the victory through Him or 
let ourselves remain bound slaves to corrup- 
tion.” 

‘T tell you, Almira,*^ said Mr. Crouch to 
his wife that evening, “our new dominie is a 
regular weasel, as glib as you please at answer- 
ing questions, but smart enough to keep from 


28 


THE CHRISTMAN 


being cornered. I suspect that he’s shoddy, a 
regular heretic, as you may say, and I’ll catch 
him yet, and if I do — if I do. You mark my 
word, if I do. I’ll rip off his mask, strings and 
all, see if I don’t.” 


THE CHRISTMAN 


29 


CHAPTER HI. 

APART. 

Mr. Osborn had finished his work at the 
Theological Seminary two weeks previous to 
going to Rutherford. Though possessed of 
good health, he was not robust of body. The 
seminary examinations, partings from his old 
friends and class mates, and the numerous de- 
mands on his time in closing up his affairs, had 
taxed his strength considerably, so that, when 
he reached home, he was very weary, and 
wished that he had not arranged to assume the 
duties of his new pastorate so soon. The days 
that remained were spent with his mother in 
farewell calls on neighbors and in packing a 
few household effects, so that he had no time 
for rest and recuperation. 

The Ordination and Installation services 
were to be held on the day following his ar- 
rival, and the afternoon and evening had been 
set apart for the purpose. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


30 

Mrs. Gaddis felt it incumbent upon her to 
entertain her guests continually, so that when 
Mr. Osborn went to the church, after a bounti- 
ful midday dinner, to meet the ministers who 
had driven in from the surrounding towns he 
was exhausted in mind and body. 

At last the hour of evening service came, 
and the young man, accompanied by his 
mother, proceeded to the place of worship. He 
had hoped to have had time to compose his 
mind and prepare himself for the solemn meet- 
ing, but this had been impossible. 

Committing his mother to the care of Mrs. 
Hartwell, he proceeded to the small Sunday 
School room in the rear of the church, where 
the ministers were in waiting. After a brief 
conference he returned with them to the main 
building and the service began. 

The sermon that preceded the ordination 
was long and commonplace. By the time it 
was half finished the congregation had become 
weary and restless. 

When Mr. Osborn arose and faced the pul- 
pit, there was a general movement among the 
people, and whispered words could be heard 
all over the room. Some leaned forward in 


THE CHRISTMAN 


31 


their anxiety to observe everything that oc- 
curred, others turned their heads that they 
might more readily hear what was said. 

The young man did not seem conscious of 
the presence of any one, save the ministers on 
the platform. Those who sat in the front of 
the church saw that he was pale and that his 
hand trembled as he leaned on the back of a 
chair and looked at the preacher who was ad- 
dressing him. 

His mother observed nothing of what was 
going on. Her head was bowed; she was 
pleading with God that He might give her boy 
strength and courage to fulfill his high and 
holy calling as a herald of the cross. 

Soon the members of the church were asked 
to arise and indicate their willingness to re- 
ceive the man whom they had chosen as their 
leader and guide and recognize his authority. 

Retaining his hold on the chair that had 
given him support, Mr. Osborn knelt on a low 
hassock, and an aged minister, long loved by 
all of the churches, offered a prayer. His lan- 
guage was simple and direct, his plea devout 
and earnest, and his words few and well 
chosen. Before he closed his petition, he 


32 


THE CHRISTMAN 


reached out his hand and placed it on Mr. Os- 
born's head. Other ministers followed his ex- 
ample, as he continued his supplication, plead- 
ing with God that the young man might be en- 
dowed plentifully with Heavenly grace and 
that he might be set apart by the Holy Spirit 
to the office that he had chosen. 

For six long years Osborn had been looking 
forward to the time when he should be or- 
dained. During the last two years of his col- 
lege life and throughout his seminary course 
a deep longing to preach the Gospel had pos- 
sessed his soul, and now, when he felt the 
hands of the ministers on his head, there came 
to his innermost being a profound sense of the 
Divine Presence, and his mind, so recently rest- 
less and anxious, was calm and peaceful, and 
his whole heart surrendered itself to God. 
There, bowing in supplication, his spiritual 
sight was clarified and for a moment he seemed 
to see Christ. 

Soon the vision passed, if it might have been 
called a vision, and he arose with a kind of re- 
ligious exaltation; at the same time with a 
feeling of oppression, caused by the sense of 
being surrounded by a large number of people. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


33 


One of the ministers began an address, 
charging him to be faithful in his duties as 
pastor of the church. He looked at the man 
without apprehending the import of his words ; 
then he glanced about the room. The congre- 
gation appeared as a confused mass of human 
beings. In an instant he was able to distin- 
guish one person from another, and recognized 
several of his parishioners. His mother was 
looking at him, and he saw that she was ab- 
sorbed in the service. Her face was to him as 
the face of an angel. How different she ap- 
peared from others! Her eyes shone with a 
brightness and expression that he had seen but 
once or twice before, when her whole soul had 
been wrought upon by some great spiritual 
emotion. Her lips parted, as though she were 
about to speak, and he wished that he might 
be alone with her and might throw his arms 
about her neck, as in childhood, and tell the 
story of his feelings and purposes. Then he 
tried to give attention to the speaker. 

The address was not long, but it was fol- 
lowed by another to the members of the 
church, which was protracted and tiresome. 
Then a hymn was sung and the meeting closed. 


34 


THE CHRISTMAN 


The benediction had scarcely been pro- 
nounced when the people came forward to take 
him by the hand and assure him of their good 
will and support. 

‘‘Fine service! Fine singing! Fine sermon!'’ 
said Mr. Richard Cherpin, as he grasped the 
minister's hand and threw back his head to 
stare at him through a pair of gold-rimrned 
glasses. Mr. Cherpin was a little man with a 
round, bald head, puffy cheeks and wide-open 
eyes. “Very impressive, ah — a, and all that 
sort of thing, you know." 

Having thus expressed his opinion he looked 
around the church with an air of great satis- 
faction, and added: “Every seat occupied; 
never saw such a crowd here before. If the 
congregation keeps like this, the trustees will 
have to, ah — enlarge the building or do some- 
thing " 

Just at that moment, Mr. and Mrs. Crouch 
came up and Mr. Cherpin turned to them : 

“Very auspicious opening, don't you think 
so, Mr. Crouch — Mrs. Crouch?" 

“The proof of the crop isn't in first sprouts. 
Brother Cherpin," returned Mr. Crouch. “A 
good deal depends on the kind of weather that 


THE CHRISTMAN 


35 


follows. I just want to say to Dominie Os- 
born that he has our best wishes, and that we 
hope he won't get a swelled head over the en- 
thusiasm of the evening, for our folks aren't 
always to be depended upon " 

‘‘Oh, now, Mr. Crouch,” broke in Mrs. 
Cherpin, ‘‘you mustn't discourage the minister 
at the first meeting. I'm sure that Mrs. 
Crouch doesn't think that we're unreliable. Do 
you, Mrs. Crouch?” 

Mrs. Crouch looked at her husband and re- 
plied that she was sure she didn't know. 

“But wasn't the singing glorious?” Mrs. 
Cherpin went on. “The choir just outdid it- 
self, and Miss Bruding, wasn't she adorable? 
Why, her voice was as strong and sweet as a 
Sphinx. I thought I should have to fly when 
she came to that part about the angels bright 
and fair; and the sermon! Oh, wasn't it 
grand? How do you suppose Mrs. Rhyder 
managed to make the flowers stay up in that 
pyramid? It was beautiful. The Goths and 
Vandals couldn’t have done better. She's a 
regular coot at such things ” 

“How do you do, Mrs. Cherpin?” The 
speaker was a short, thick-set, middle-aged 


36 


THE CHRISTMAN 


woman, who had been waiting some time for 
an opportunity to speak to the minister. ^‘And, 
Mr. Cherpin, Fm glad to see you. Oh, you 
here, too, Mr. Crouch, and Mrs. Crouch? Well, 
isn’t this delightful? Mr. Osborn, it’s a great 
pleasure for me to shake hands with you, and 
realize that you now belong to us all. It was 
a most trying ordeal that you had to go 
through. I wonder that you are not com- 
pletely used up. Do you know, such services 
always remind me of the time when I grad- 
uated from school. That was twenty years 
ago. I was just eighteen years of age then. 
Think of it! twenty years ago. You wouldn’t 
imagine such a thing was possible, would you ? 
I won’t tell you how old I am; women never 
like to have their ages known. I remember I 
was all dressed up in white with pink sash and 
ribbons, and had to recite an essay that Pa 
wrote for me. When I got half way through 
I thought I should collapse, it was so hot and 
close. Then when Professor Cringinson 

handed me my diploma, I ” 

‘‘Oh, Mrs. Conover, excuse me for inter- 
rupting you,” broke in Miss Laura Saunders, 
*‘I want to shake hands with the minister be- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


fore I go; Ma is over there waiting for me. 
Mr. Osborn, I think that you looked just too 
lovely for anything to-night, kneeling on that 
stool, with all the ministers putting their 
hands on your head. I had to look through 
my fingers to see you. I thought they’d surely 
muss your hair, men are so clumsy, but they 
didn’t. I wouldn’t have missed the meeting to- 
night for anything.” 

Miss Saunders passed on, and Mrs. Con- 
over continued, ‘‘Well, as I was saying, when 
Professor Cringinson handed me my di- 
ploma ” 

“Mr. Osborn, I want to take you by the 
hand before I go,” said Deacon Hartwell, “I 
shall see you again Sunday, and look forward 
to hearing the message that you have for us.” 

“As I was saying,” Mrs. Conover began 
again — “Oh, Mrs. Hartwell, excuse me, I 
didn’t notice that you were standing there.” 

Mrs. Hartwell shook hands with the minis- 
ter, but said nothing; then Mr. and Mrs. Rhy- 
der, Mr. and Mrs. Gaddis and young Oswald 
Bowman came up. So soon as they had gone 
Mrs. Conover tried again to tell Mr. Osborn 
how she felt when she received her school di- 


38 


THE CHRISTMAN 


ploma, but was prevented by others, who 
wanted to show their good will and meet the 
young man. 

Many people claimed the privilege of speak- 
ing to the minister, and he was kept busy the 
next half hour. Nearly all who came forward 
were total strangers, so that while some of 
them might be remembered, he could not call 
more than a half dozen by name. 

At last he felt that he could leave the church. 
His head throbbed, and he was very weary. 

His mother had been waiting for him near 
the door. She had been greeted by many peo- 
ple, and had taken a seat in the rear pew for a 
few moments of rest. 

Mr. Osborn had walked half way up the 
aisle, when he was suddenly intercepted by a 
tall man, who was accompanied by a short, 
dumpy little woman. They introduced them- 
selves at once as Mr. and Mrs. Oliver Bubble. 

"T want to prophesy, Mr. Osborn,’’ the man 
began, as he squeezed the minister’s hand, ‘'that 
the church is going to have great prosperity 
under your administration ” 

“Yes, indeed,” said Mrs. Bubble, talking 
very rapidly and laughing, “the people were 


THE CHRISTMAN 


39 


all so deeply infected. Now, don’t interrupt 
me, Oliver. Don’t interrupt me. You know 
that when I can’t think of the right word, I 
have to invent one. They were so deeply in- 
fected by the proceedings of this evening that 
I am sure they will rally to the support of the 
work; under your leadership, Mr. Osborn, I 
don’t see how they could do anything else. I 
myself was quite overdone by the gravity of 
the occasion ” 

‘‘You mean overcome, my dear,” broke in 
Mr. Bubble. “You mean overcome, I am 
sure.” 

“Well, perhaps I do,” she returned; “it is 
just the same thing. Overcome, then, but I 
couldn’t go home without speaking a word of 
encouragement to Mr. Osborn, and telling him 
that we are all very glad that he is with us, and 
that we all mean to stand by him through thick 
and thin. It must have been a very trying 
thing to have stood there ‘the observed of all 
observers,’ as one might say, and I know that 
if I had had to kneel as you did all that time 
before such an arrogation of people, I should 
have been quite decomposed — no, that is not 


40 


THE CHRISTMAN 


the word I want, but then you know what I 
mean.’’ 

When Mr. and Mrs. Bubble had gone, Mr. 
Osborn hurried to his mother, and they left 
the church together. 

On reaching Mr. Gaddis’ house, he went at 
once to his room, and there sat for an hour 
contemplating the events of the evening. ‘‘Can 
it be possible,” he said to himself, “that I shall 
ever influence the lives of the people by my 
preaching, when such a solemn service as we 
had to-night did not produce the slightest im- 
pression? O God, I am weak, show Thou me 
the way to their hearts!” 


THE CHRISTMAN 


41 


If 


CHAPTER IV. 

BROTH, V^RY THIN BROTH. 

The Sunday morning on which Mr. Osborn 
was to preach his opening sermon was bright 
and beautiful, but Mrs. Rhyder was discon- 
tented and cross. She had looked forward to 
attending the service and hearing the new 
minister, but her children, who had been ill, 
were not yet strong enough to be left alone. 

‘‘Well, if I must, I suppose I must,’’ she de- 
clared to herself, and then went to the window 
and looked out. Her neighbors were on their 
way to church, ^nd she imagined that she saw 
signs of anticipated pleasure on their faces, 
which annoyed her still more. 

“Dear me !” she exclaimed, “I don’t see why 
Jack and Blanche couldn’t have chosen some 
other time to be sick.” 

Pulling down the shade to shut out the view 
of her friends, she added, “I’d ask their father 


42 


THE CHRISTMAN 


to stay at home with them, as he did last Wed- 
nesday, when I helped to trim the pulpit, if he 
wasn’t an usher.” 

Just at that moment her husband came down 
stairs. 

‘'Oh, John!” she .called out, ‘T wish that 
you’d stop at the doctor’s on your way to 
church and ask him what I may let the chil- 
dren eat. They are both as hungry as bears, 
and I’m afraid to give them anything. I 
wouldn’t upset their stomachs again for a 
farm. Wait a minute. You’ll be sure to for- 
get if I don’t put it down.” 

“No, I won’t forget,” he returned. “The 
idea of my not remembering a simple inquiry 
like that. The doctor will think that I’m a fool 
to bring him such a message on paper.” 

“Yes, you will,” she insisted. “I know you 
of old.” 

Going to her desk, she wrote: “Dear Dr. 
B rancher, won’t you please let me know what 
I may give the children to eat? Poor, dear 
little things, they’re hungry all the time.” 

“There, take* that,” she ordered; “you 
needn’t come back. Send one of the boys over 
from the church with the doctor’s answer.” 


THE CHRISTMAN 


43 


As Mr. Rhyder left the house, he saw Mr. 
Osborn and his mother on the other side of the 
street and bowed to them. Then he hastened 
his steps, for if there was anything that he 
prided himself on as an usher, it was that he 
was always at church on time. 

A few moments later Dr. Brancher read the 
missive that was handed to him, and, tearing 
off the back leaf, wrote his directions on it, and 
returned the paper to Mr. Rhyder, who put it 
in his pocket and hurried to the service. 

On entering the church he was greatly dis- 
concerted to find that the minister was offering 
the invocation. Forgetting all about the doc- 
tor’s message, he took his place by the door and 
waited for the prayer to close. 

Miss Maud Clevering, like Mr. Rhyder, was 
also very particular about being at church early, 
and was never late unless detained by her 
lover, who generally called Sunday morning to 
accompany her to the service. On this particu- 
lar morning Mr. Bowman had, without her 
knowledge, been asked to assist in ushering. 
She had waited for him until the last moment, 
and then left the house. Reaching the church 
while the congregation was singing the open- 


44 


THE CHRISTMAN 


ing hymn, she handed Mr. Rhyder a pulpit an- 
nouncement of the young people’s meeting, and 
went directly to her father’s pew. 

Following her were two strangers, who 
asked to be seated. Crowding the notice that 
he had just received into his pocket, Mr. Rhy- 
der led them to a place. Then he went for- 
ward, and, as he ascended the pulpit steps, 
drew what he supposed was Miss Clevering’s 
announcement from the folds of his coat, and 
handed it to the minister, with the whispered 
request that it should be read to the congrega- 
tion. 

Mr. Osborn, on his way to service, noticed 
that Mr. Rhyder walked very rapidly, and, 
after returning his parishioner’s salute, won- 
dered whether it was later than he supposed. 
Under the influence of this thought, he has- 
tened his steps. 

Nearing the church, he looked about. The* 
people were entering in large numbers. The 
leaves of the trees, bright and fresh from the 
cleansing of the rain, swayed on their branches, 
as though they were anxious to express their 
joy at his coming. The sound of the brook 
that flowed back of the meeting house could be 


THE CHRISTMAN 


45 


clearly heard. It was more rapid in its mo- 
tion than usual, but its impetuosity seemed like 
the impetuosity of gladness, for, at a distance, 
it sounded like the rippling laughter of chil- 
dren, or a song of hope and exultation. 

In a moment he saw Elder Root and Mr. 
Treadwell coming to meet him. Eben Root 
was called Elder, not on account of any offi- 
cial position that he held, but, rather, on ac- 
count of the respect that was accorded him. 
He had been one of the charter members of 
the Rutherford church fifty-eight years be- 
fore, and had now passed his eighty-first birth- 
day. His venerable appearance, kind disposi- 
tion, godly life and beneficent ministries to the 
poor and needy had endeared him to all the 
people in the village, so that gradually the title 
of Elder gave place to that of Father, as more 
expressive of respect and love. I 

After shaking hands with Mr. Osborn and 
his mother, Mr. Treadwell conducted Mrs. Os-| 
born to the pastor’s pew, and Elder Root, with 
an old school courtesy that always marked his 
bearing, offered the minister his arm, and led 
him to the Sunday School room, from which 
he was expected to enter the pulpit. There, 


46 


THE CHRISTMAN 


alone with the young man, he asked whether he 
could be of any service. Finding that there 
was nothing more that he could do, he placed 
his hand on Mr. Osborn’s shoulder and, with 
paternal tenderness, said, '‘May God’s richest 
blessing rest on you this morning, my young 
brother, and may you be filled with His Spirit.” 
Then he left him and entered the church. 

It would be impossible to describe Mr. Os- 
born’s feelings as he went into the pulpit that 
morning. He was weary from the continued 
mental strain that he had been under, and his 
head ached; yet he was anxious to begin his 
work and acquit himself with credit, but the 
deeper longing of his heart was that he might 
be a true herald of the Cross. So, on taking his 
seat, he bowed his head and prayed. 

The last verse of the opening hymn was be- 
ing sung when Mr. Rhyder appeared and put 
a paper in his hand with the request that it 
should be read to the congregation. Unfold- 
ing the slip, he looked at its contents in aston- 
ishment. His brow wrinkled, and his face 
grew red and white by turns. Could he believe 
his eyes? What did it mean? Some one had 
evidently intended to play a practical joke on 


THE CHRISTMAN 


47 


him. If so, it was certainly a very inoppor- 
tune time for him to do it. No, the paper 
could not be intended as a joke, for he had 
received it from one of the most substantial 
and staid members of the church. 

He read the missive again : ‘‘Give them a lit- 
tle thin gruel this morning and again later. It 
will probably be all that they can digest at pres- 
ent, and all that will be required. — Brancher.” 

It did not seem possible that any one could 
be so officious and inconsiderate as to intend 
the message to be in the nature of personal di- 
rection to him. Brancher! Brancher! That 
name seeemd to be familiar, but where and 
when had he heard it? Then, there was the 
request that he should read it aloud; it must 
therefore be a public announcement and have a 
meaning that would be understood by the peo- 
ple. No, that was manifestly impossible. 

Time was passing, the last line of the hymn 
had been reached. He looked toward the door, 
hoping to catch Mr. Rhyder’s eye, hut he had 
gone out into the vestibule. A sudden hope 
possessed him, and he turned the paper over. 
There was nothing written on the other side. 

The organist took his hands from the key- 


48 


THE CHRISTMAN 


board. The music ceased, and the people sat 
down. Jamming the paper into his waistcoat 
pocket, he arose to preach. His sermon had 
been carefully prepared and fully written, but 
he had determined not to be a slave to his man- 
uscript, and had, therefore, left it at home. 
will begin my ministry right,” he had said to 
his mother, “and speak face to face with my 
people.” 

Not feeling sufficient confidence in his mem- 
ory, he had brought a few notes that he now 
spread out on his Bible, but his head throbbed, 
he was extremely anxious and nervous, and 
his mind was in a turmoil, so that his sermon 
headings meant little to him. 

Seminary work, packing, visiting and mov- 
ing had taxed his powers, but he would have 
endured the strain had not the last week been 
filled with unusual demands on his strength. 
Then, just as he was about to preach, that mes- 
sage came. He looked at his notes. They con- 
tained words, words, nothing but words. A 
confused buzzing, as of a hive of bees, started 
in his head, and he found it impossible to 
think. “A little thin gruel this morning and 
again later. It will probably be all that they 


THE CHRISTMAN 


49 


can digest at present,” seemed to be written 
everywhere between the lines on the paper be- 
fore him. 

Mechanically he announced his text and re- 
peated it three times, hoping thereby to regain 
control of himself. Then he read the first 
heading of his transcript and tried to recall 
what he had prepared. Oh, how he wished 
that he had brought his manuscript, and actu- 
ally felt in his pockets, to see whether it had 
not been left there by some mischance. Slowly 
repeating the words that he had read, he tried 
to speak. It was in vain, thoughts would not 
come, and he hurried on announcing the sub- 
heads with nervous rapidity, while the words, 
*‘thin gruel, thin gruel,” sounded continually 
in his brain. 

In a moment he had reached the second 
heading and stared blankly at it; then, in ut- 
ter confusion, he read on without extemporane- 
ous word or comment. A sickening sense of 
complete failure took possession of him, but 
he was still in the pulpit, and he determined to 
make one last attempt to retrieve himself. Re- 
membering an anecdote that had been used by 
a class mate in a Seminary sermon, he repeated 


50 


THE CHRISTMAN 


it, with violent gesticulations and emphasis, 
and then tried to indicate some way in which it 
illustrated the truth contained in the text. The 
digression filled up the time — that was some- 
thing — and he sought to recall other anecdotes 
and repeated them, drawing on his imagination 
for details. He knew that he had been talking 
at random, but he could not help it. Finally 
he leaned over the pulpit and solemnly ex- 
horted his hearers to stand true to God, and 
cast all evil out of the church and out of their 
lives, root and branch, and consecrate them- 
selves, with all their powers, to Christ as their 
Lord. 

Having thus brought his remarks to a close, 
he mopped his brow with his handkerchief and 
led the people in prayer. A moment later when 
he looked at his watch he discovered that he 
had talked just seventeen minutes, and groaned 
aloud. 

No sooner was the benediction pronounced 
than he fled through the Sunday School room 
to the banks of the stream, that so short a time 
before had brought joy to his soul. There, 
seated on the root of a great tree, concealed 
from view, he buried his face in his hands. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


51 


Some one has said, ‘‘No man fails who does 
his best.” Mr. Osborn had done his best. 
While he mourned over his inefficiency the Di- 
vine Spirit was preparing him for achievement, 
but he knew it not. In the judgment of many, 
the minister’s discomfiture was an evidence of 
incompetency. In the judgment of heaven, it 
was a harbinger of victory. 

Mr. Osborn remained seated by the stream a 
long time. At first, he made up his mind that 
he would leave the scene of his humiliation, 
turn his back on Rutherford forever, and seek 
another field of service; but the next moment 
he told himself that that would be cowardly; 
that he must remain, and, in spite of failure, 
make a success. Then he began to wonder 
what people would say, and spent the next half 
hour in bemoaning his condition. 

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder, and, 
looking up, saw Elder Root and Deacon Hart- 
well. They had evidently been searching for 
him in the woods and along the road, for twigs 
and burrs clung to their garments, and dust 
covered their shoes. 

He tried to rise and take them by the hand. 


52 


THE CHRISTMAN 


but they forestalled his purpose and seated 
themselves by his side. 

^'Friend Hartwell and I have just been say- 
ing,” began Elder Root, ‘'that you had the out- 
line of a fine discourse this morning, but that 
our folks made a great mistake in putting the 
ordination and installation so close to Sunday. 
We should have arranged to have had them 
earlier in the week and given you a full Satur- 
day to rest. We saw that you were worn 
out when you entered the pulpit, and couldn’t 
do yourself justice. Now we have come to 
say that it would be a great satisfaction to us 
all if you would take up the same subject this 
evening as a kind of continuation of this morn- 
ing’s sermon. You said that you always wrote 
out your sermons in full, and it occurred to us 
that it would be comparatively easy for you to 
bring your manuscript with you this evening. 
Let us have the result of your study just as 
you put it on paper.” 

Osborn turned and looked at Elder Root in 
surprise. “Then you don’t think that I made 
a fool of myself this morning?” he asked. 

“No, certainly not,” Mr. Hartwell replied. 
“That story you told us about the bodies of 


THE CHRISTMAN 


53 


those miners that were found in the attitude 
of prayer, when the shaft was opened, was 
thrilling and to the point. I only wish that 
the application was a little clearer. You’ll have 
to give that to us again some time.’^ 

Osborn made no answer, but put his hand in 
his pocket and drew out the paper that had 
confused him, and handed it to Mr. Hartwell, 
who read it and then asked, 'Ts this what Mr. 
Rhyder handed you when we were singing?” 

The young man nodded, and Mr. Hartwell 
pased it over to Elder Root with a look that 
was wonderfully expressive. 

‘"Rhyder made a mistake,” he said. “That 
is Dr. Brancher’s direction to some patient. 
Probably it was meant for Mrs. Rhyder ; her 
children are not well.” 

They talked on until the young man grew 
more quiet, and felt his strength returning, 
then Elder Root insisted that he should go 
home with him and dine. “I’ll give you a room 
to yourself, where you can rest,” he said, “and 
you need not feel obliged to attend the session 
of the Sunday School.” 

Noticing a hesitancy on the part of the min- 
ister, Mr. Hartwell added, “I will stop and see 


54 


THE CHRISTMAN 


your mother, and, if Father Root doesn’t ob- 
ject, I’ll ask her to call and dine with you.” 

As the three men walked down the street, 
the old man held Mr. Osborn’s attention with 
assurances of a large blessing that was in store 
for the church under his pastorate, every now 
and then appealing to Mr. Hartwell for a rati- 
fication of his views. 

Most of the people made no comment on 
what had occured, but at the close of the serv- 
ice went silently to their homes. They felt de- 
pressed and sorry for the young man, and at 
the same time perplexed at his behavior. He 
had preached acceptably six weeks before. 
Why could he not have done it again? There 
were a few, however, who gathered at the back 
of the church and in the vestibule that they 
might talk over the event of the morning and 
express their views. 

Mr. Rhyder did not discover his mistake 
until he reached home, and his wife charged 
him with neglecting the children. He won- 
dered how it came that Miss Covering’s an- 
nouncement remained in his pocket, for he was 
sure that he gave it to the minister; then the 


THE CHRISTMAN 


55 


truth flashed to his mind, and he hastened back 
to the church to explain his blunder. 

As Mr. Osborn and his mother had accepted 
Mrs. Treadwell’s invitation to spend Sunday 
at her house, Mrs. Gaddis was cross, and the 
minister’s apparent failure increased her dis- 
pleasure. Mr. Gaddis, seeing that his wife was 
annoyed, taunted her on her admiration of 
ministers and Christians. 

Rufus Timer, who led the choir, was out- 
spoken in his opinion, and declared that the 
church had made a blunder in calling to the 
pastorate a babbling pulpiter, as he called Mr. 
Osborn. 

Mrs. Cherpin said that she didn’t know why, 
but that the British lion couldn’t have been 
more nervous and flustrated than was the 
preacher, and that she’d like to have the hands 
of a Venus de Milo, that she might shake some 
sense into him. 

Mr. Cherpin insisted that his wife was 
wrong; that it didn’t make much difference 
what a minister said, or how he said it, if he 
only knew enough to stop when he got through, 
and that Mr. Osborn’s sermon was short and 


56 


THE CHRISTMAN 


therefore was an improvement on the sermons 
of his predecessor, Mr. Taller. 

Mrs. Bubble asserted that she wasn't going 
to church to hear such toddle. That the next 
time she'd stay at home and look after little 
Jonas, who had the whooping cough and re- 
quired her intentions. 

Mr. Boyar brought his fist down on the 
back of a pew and said that he could give the 
young man a few points on preaching. 

Mr. Crouch, after having expressed his mind 
freely to a number of people in the vestibule, 
went to Sam Runkle's livery stable, that he 
might pour out his wrath in the ears of its pro- 
prietor. 

Sam had driven a stage between Rutherford 
and Cranston until the trolley line was laid 
out, then he settled in Rutherford and began 
business for himself. His ready wit and quaint 
remarks made him a favorite with every one, 
and his stable soon became a kind of center 
for village gossip. 

‘‘You should have been to our church this 
morning," began Mr. Crouch. “We had a 
regular circus. The dominie got rattled over 
nothing and made a perfect fizzle of his ser* 


THE CHRISTMAN 


57 


mon and disgusted us all with his cant. It’s a 
disgrace to let such a kid as he is into any pul- 
pit. He ought to stay in the nursery until he 
can walk.” 

‘‘How did he preach?” Sam inquired with 
a drawl. ‘‘Did he cree-p along, or did he can- 
ter?” 

“Neither,” returned Mr. Crouch. “He tum- 
bled all over himself and didn’t get anywhere.” 

“There’s fi-ve kinds of preachers,” returned 
Sam, removing a straw from his mouth and 
drawing his hand down over his face, “an’ yer 
new parson is one of them, lest I’m ve-ry much 
mistaken. The-re’s the Baloonin’ preacher. 
He’s filled up with gas or hot air; it doesn’t 
make much difference which. He swe-lls up 
easy, an’ looks nice either way. Gits up among 
the clouds and flo-ats around fer a while, 
movin’ accordin’ to the way the wind blows. 
Sometimes he collapses before he gits any- 
where, but that ain’t often. Then he comes 
down e-asy, not knowing where he’s going 
to land, till all at once he catches in a tree or 
bramble bush, or something of that sort, o-r 
turns turtle in a mud puddle, an’ has to give it 
up. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


S8 

^‘Then the-re’s the Railroadin’ preacher; he 
runs on the same track a-11 the time, steamin’ 
ahead at a great rate. He doesn’t know any 
other way. It’s chu, chu, chu, stop. First 
head — that’s the station. Git off. All aboard 
fer the next remark. Chu, chu, chu, stop 
again. He’s reached the second head. Git off. 
All aboard fer another station, an’ so on, till 
he comes to the terminus, as yer may say, and 
makes an application. Sometimes he runs 
twen-ty five miles an hour, more often it’s 
fifty. Most of the stations he stops at ain’t 
worth mentionin’, but then others are. 

‘‘Then the-re’s the stilt-walkin’ preacher; 
he’s great on pulpit stunts, an’ sta-lks along 
above the people’s heads, an’ thinks he’s the 
biggest man in town, but he isn’t. He has to go 
along kind o’ careful, or he’ll trip on somethin’. 
Yer might consider him more interestin’ than 
any of the others on account of his height, but 
yer mustn’t forget that he’s stiff in the jints, 
an’ has to hobble all the time instead of walk. 

“Then the-re’s the bird-flyin’ preacher; he’s 
light an’ pretty an’ graceful as can be, hoppin’ 
along or fly-in’ through the air, an’ perchin’ 
on the branches or twigs, with a chirp an’ a 


THE CHRISTMAN 


59 


peep, without knowin’ much what he’s doin’, 
till all at once he sits down in the middle of the 
road somewhar an’ ro-lls around, fillin’ his 
feathers with dust. Women folks likes him 
better than any of the others. 

‘‘Then the-re’s the boss preacher. He jog- 
trots along, steady goin’; sometimes he balks 
at the rules of the church, an’ sometimes he 
shies at a doctrine or so, and has ter be touched 
up with the whip. He’s the kind I like, be- 
cause after awhile he gits somewhere, calls 
whoa! with a good, strong application.” 

“Well, our dominie isn’t any of the kind 
that you’ve mentioned,” returned Mr. Crouch. 
“He’s more of a mule than a horse, but to my 
mind he isn’t either one or the other. He’s a 
baby, a mere baby, insulting an intelligent con- 
gregation with twaddle, and then trying to 
cover up his jejunity by personal insinuations.” 

“Personal insinua-tions,” returned Sam, 
with a start. “Whew! That’s serious, who’s 
he been talking about?” 

“Members who are in good and regular 
standing,” Mr. Crouch answered. “That’s all 
I’ve got to say. You’ll hear soon enough. 
People ain’t going to be insulted from the pul- 
pit and keep still.” 


6o 


THE CHRISTMAN 


CHAPTER V. 

TAK^ MY S1I,V1^R AND MY GOI.D. 

It was the evening of the weekly prayer 
meeting, nearly a year after Mr. Osborn’s in- 
stallation, when Mrs. Treadwell descended the 
steps of her house and stood for a moment on 
the sidewalk, as though undecided which way 
to turn. She had left word with her daughter 
that she intended to call for Mrs. Rhyder on 
her way to the church, but on reaching the 
street she seemed uncertain whether to do as 
she had said or go directly to the service. 

Flakes of snow had been falling all the 
afternoon. As evening approached the storm 
increased in strength. Mrs. Treadwell opened 
her umbrella and looked about ; then, as though 
afraid that further delay might cause her to 
change her mind, she began to walk rapidly 
toward Mrs. Rhyder’s residence. 

She had heard some one refer to her friend 


THE CHRISTMAN 


6i 


as having spoken disparagingly of Mr. Os- 
born’s work, and she was anxious to know 
whether the report was true. The young min- 
ister’s enemies, under Mr. Crouch’s leadership, 
had increased in numbers, and had become out- 
spoken in their opposition to him, and she 
feared that her fellow-member had been in- 
fluenced by their words. 

Arriving at Mrs. Rhyder’s house, she at 
once introduced the subject, and soon discov- 
ered that her friend sympathized with the 
views of the hostile faction. 

‘T tell you, Mrs. Rhyder,” she declared with 
considerable asperity, ‘T tell you that this thing 
will make trouble in the church yet. Mr. Os- 
born may not be perfect; it is true that he lacks 
experience; but he’s a good man and preaches 
helpful, practical sermons; a great deal better 
sermons than we have any right to expect with 
the salary that we pay, and his mother, we all 
know that she is a little girlish in her way, per- 
haps, for a woman of her years, but as intelli- 
gent and warm-hearted as any one in the 
church, besides being one of our very best 
workers.” 

‘‘Well, I’m sure I have no objection to the 


62 


THE CHRISTMAN 


young man or his mother,” returned Mrs. 
Rhyder. ‘Thu perfectly satisfied with him; I 
only wish that he had sense enough to select 
hymns that fitted his sermons. Mr. Timer 
says that they are as incongruous as possi- 
ble, and as for her, it^s my opinion that 
there should be quietness and seriousness in 
the house of God. It jars on my sense of 
the fitness of things to have her come in with 
that school-girl smile of hers and shake hands 
with those of us who want to be let alone. No, 
I’m not one of the kind that make trouble in a 
church. If I can’t live peaceably with my fel- 
low-members, I’ll leave, but you know people 
will talk. Now, there’s Mrs. Crouch ” 

“Mrs. Crouch,” broke in Mrs. Treadwell. 
“It’s enough to make one’s blood boil to hear 
those two people talk. I wish the Crouches 
would either stick to facts and be reasonable 
or else hold their tongues.” 

“But Mr. and Mrs. Crouch are members 
just as much as we are, and have a right to 
their opinions,” insisted Mrs. Rhyder, “and 
there’s Mrs. Gaddis and Mr. Bowman; there’s 
a lot of them, and they all say that the minister 
isn’t what he should be.” 


THE CHRISTMAN 


63 


‘'Mrs. Rhyder, where do you stand, are you 
for Mr. Osborn or against him?’' Mrs. Tread- 
well asked abruptly. 

“Oh, I don’t stand anywhere, as I said,” she 
returned. “All I want is peace and harmony. 
I’ve talked with Mrs. Bubble and Mrs. Cher- 
pin and Mrs. Boyar, and they feel the same. 
Mrs. Treadwell, you can’t accomplish any- 
thing in a church unless the members pull to- 
gether. We don’t any of us like disagree- 
ments, but, then, what are you going to do? 
The people feel that Mr. Osborn isn’t the man 
for the place, and he can’t or won’t see that, 
for consistency’s sake, he ought to find another 
field and not stay to plunge the church into 
trouble. There may be something in what Mr. 
Gaddis says about the minister being a mere 
child in experience and knowing no better, 
when he pays particular attention to some fam- 
ilies and neglects others.” 

“Mrs. Rhyder, what do you mean?” de- 
manded Mrs. Treadwell. “I wish that you’d 
speak out plainly. Mr. Gaddis isn’t a member 
of the church, and talks against all ministers, 
so it isn’t worth while to pay much attention to 
his opinions, but if you know of any one Mr. 


64 


THE CHRISTMAN 


Osborn has neglected tell me who it is, and Til 
ask him to call at once. I know that he'll be 
glad to do it." 

^^Mean?" she replied. ''If you want to know 
who I mean, there's Mrs. Brancher " 

"Mrs. Brancher!" Mrs. Treadwell inter- 
rupted again. "I happen to know that Mr. Os- 
born has called there twice in the past three 
months, and his mother has been several times, 
but Mrs. Brancher has been out every time ; be- 
sides, Mrs. Brancher isn't a member." 

"Well," she returned, "it seems to me, after 
what happened that first Sunday he preached, 
he ought to manage some way to see Mrs. 
Brancher. You know how he broke down 
and made a regular goose of himself, just be- 
cause John handed him the Doctor's directions 
by mistake, and then got mad and told us to 
cast out all evil from the church, root and 
branch. I wasn't there, but Mr. Crouch says 
that it was evident that he had a double mean- 
ing in what he said, and it may be so. Father 
Root is one of the dearest old men who ever 
lived and is our senior member, and Dr. 
Brancher is a good, upright physician, if he 
doesn't often get a chance to go to church. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


65 


How Mr. Osborn ever got hold of the fact that 
the Doctor used to be called Branch in his 
school days is a mystery to me, but he got hold 
of it some way, and had the audacity to call it 
right out in the pulpit, and that, too,. when the 
Doctor is old enough to be his father. It just 
shows what a man will do when he’s angry. 
Mr. Crouch calls it a piece of unwarranted im- 
pudence.” 

‘‘Mrs. Rhyder ! Mrs. Rhyder !” was all that 
Mrs. Treadwell could say. 

“Oh, well, you may believe it or not,” she 
continued, “but people will talk. Of course 
Father Root won’t see any personal allusion 
to himself ; he never sees anything bad in any 
one, but other folks see. If he don’t stand up 
for himself, they’ll stand up for him. As to 
me, you may be sure I won’t make any trouble ; 
all I want is harmony.” 

When the two women had reached the 
church door, Mrs. Bubble met them. 

“Oh, Mrs. Rhyder, Mrs. Treadwell!” she 
exclaimed, “I’m so glad to see you. May I sit 
with you? Mr. Bubble couldn’t come, and I’m 
alone. There, now, isn’t it nice that we should 
meet; we do have such lovely prayer meet- 


66 


THE CHRISTMAN 


ings, and the sanctuary is always such a har- 
rowed spot ; I should say hallowed. My tongue 
is always tripping on my teeth — he ! he ! he 

On taking their seats, Mrs. Bubble noticed 
that Mr. Bowman had come in with Miss Clev- 
ering, and she leaned over and whispered: 
''What a pity that that young man finds Maud 
so vacillating — I mean fascinating. Some 
people say they're really engaged, but I don't 
know." 

Just at that moment Mrs. Knibbs entered; 
she weighed not less than two hundred pounds 
and carried herself very erect. Her son was 
with her; he was a small man with curling 
mustache and black hair. 

"Widow's mite," Mrs. Bubble whispered 
again, and covered her mouth with her hymn 
book, as though smothering a laugh. 

Then Elder Root came in, accompanied by 
his daughter, and others followed. 

When Mr. Osborn announced the opening 
hymn there were about fifty people present. 
After a brief address, several men participated. 
Finally Mr. Crouch arose and remarked that 
he was not able to attend the prayer meetings 
very regularly, and esteemed it a privilege that 


THE CHRISTMAN 


67 


circumstances were such as to enable him to be 
present on that particular evening. He fur- 
thermore wished to say that he had been 
greatly interested in the opening address and 
felt sure that the words spoken came from the 
leader’s heart, and therefore commanded the 
attention and respect of all who were present. 
He was pleased to be able to commend the 
Dominie’s earnestness. One could not impress 
others without themselves being impressed. 
He only wished that his young brother had 
given the subject more study. ‘'Beaten oil in 
the sanctuary,” he said, “should be the motto of 
every true minister, whether old or young, and 
not platitudes and trite statements, but then he 
knew that the love that all the members bore 
for their dear pastor would lead them to make 
due allowance for crudities and realize that, 
as time passed, he might grow to be a teacher 
of which the church would not be ashamed.” 

Mrs. Rhyder nudged Mrs. Treadwell at 
these remarks, and, drawing her lips together, 
nodded her head in approval. 

But Mr. Crouch was not through, for he 
went on to say that beside “beaten oil” the 
great need of the church was orthodoxy and 


68 


THE CHRISTMAN 


consecration; right thinking, he declared, in- 
variably led to right living, and that an abso- 
lute surrender of everything to God — ^time, 
talents and influence — alone brought peace and 
power. After continuing thus for a few mo- 
ments longer, he sought to bring his speech to 
a close in a way that would impress his hear- 
ers with a sense of his own devotion, so he 
stretched out his hands, and in a grandiloquent 
way repeated a verse from the hymn that had 
just been sung: 


“Take my lips and let them be 
Filled with messages from Thee. 

Take my silver and my gold; 

Not a mite would I withhold.’* 

He sat down well satisfied with himself, and 
his friends looked at one another with an ex- 
pression of approval. 

The time having come to close the service, 
Mr. Osborn arose and remarked that he had 
been pleased at the spiritual trend of the meet- 
ing, and was particularly glad that Mr. Crouch 
had been present and urged upon all the neces- 
sity of personal consecration. Then he said 
that at the last conference of the Finance Com- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


69 


mittee the ofhcers had asked him to bring a 
matter of special need to the attention of the 
congregation. A mission Sunday School, un- 
der the care of the church at Stogan’s Mills, 
required about two hundred and fifty dollars 
to renovate and improve the little chapel in 
which services were held. As it was a long 
time since any special work had been done on 
the building, and as some small repairs and re- 
painting seemed almost imperative, he would, 
at the suggestion of the Committee, ask for a 
few subscriptions at that time and secure at 
least a portion of the necessary funds. To 
show his own interest in the work he would 
personally subscribe twenty-five dollars. 

Mrs. Hartwell said that her husband, who 
was not present, would also subscribe twenty- 
five dollars, but she felt that the pastor should 
not be asked to contribute anything. 

Father Root and Mrs. Treadwell each sub- 
scribed twenty-five dollars. 

Mr. Hazzard said that he would give ten 
dollars. 

In a few moments the amount required was 
nearly all pledged. Twenty dollars was still 
needed, and Mr. Osborn urged that, inasmuch 


70 


THE CHRISTMAN 


as so little remained to be subscribed, it should 
be made up at once. 

Mr. Crouch had not responded to the call, 
and few of his friends had given anything. 
People turned and looked at him, knowing full 
well that he was one of the richest members. 
The delay became embarrassing, and Mr. Os- 
born was about to close the service when Mr. 
Hazzard, who sat well up toward the front, 
repeated without rising the verse that Mr. 
Crouch had quoted: 

“Take my life and let it be 
Filled with messages from Thee. 

Take my silver and my gold; 

Not a mite would I withhold.” 

Then he quickly called out, ‘Tastor, put me 
down for that last twenty dollars.’’ 

The words of the young man seemed to stun 
every one present, for there was perfect si- 
lence, and Mr. Hazzard, realizing that he had 
spoken hastily, dropped his head on his hands. 

The Pastor was the first person to recover 
himself. Turning to the young man, he said, 
‘^Thank you,” and then led the congregation 
in prayer, asking God’s special blessing on the 
work of the Mission. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


71 


The closing hymn was sung without pro- 
ducing any soothing efifect on the people. Some 
bit their lips, the young people giggled, others 
sang as loud as they could to drown the sound 
of levity. Mr. Crouch scowled and held his 
hymn book high, looking over the top with 
glaring eyes at Mr. Hazzard and Mr. Osborn. 

The service had scarcely closed when Mrs. 
Cherpin rushed up to Mr. Hazzard and told 
him that an almoner could not be meaner than 
he was, and that it was downright contempti- 
ble to turn the remarks of a fellow Christian 
into ridicule. Then she went to Mr. Osborn 
and, shaking her finger at him, declared that 
Mr. Crouch and his friends would never for- 
give him for the insult. 

Mr. Osborn was greatly worried. He could 
not understand why people should censure 
him, as Mrs. Cherpin had intimated that they 
would, yet he sympathized with Mr. Hazzard's 
feelings, for he knew that Mr. Crouch con- 
stantly complained of the way that the church 
work was done and gave as little as he could 
to help the workers. 

He wanted to go at once and tell his young 
friend that he had made a mistake in repeating 


72 


THE CHRISTMAN 


the verse, but he refrained, knowing that Mr. 
Crouch’s eyes were on him, and that the act 
would be construed into an evidence of ap- 
proval. Mr. Hazzard came forward himself 
to shake hands. On hearing his Pastor’s 
words of disapproval he answered: 

‘T know, Mr. Osborn, that it wasn’t wise, 
but then I’m impulsive, and it seemed as 
though I couldn’t help saying ‘what I did, and 
somehow I feel that, while I might have 
spoken hastily, I did right.’’ 


THE CHRISTMAN 


73 


CHAPTER VI. 

I ClyUM IN. 

On going to the door at the close of the serv- 
ice, the people found a strong wind from the 
northeast had come up. The snow had 
changed to sleet, and the storm had gathered 
so much fury that the air was filled with whirl- 
ing particles of ice that drove sharply like my- 
riad knife blades against the faces of those 
who were obliged to expose themselves. 

Mr. Crouch drew the collar of his great coat 
up around his neck, and buttoned its ample 
folds about his portly frame and left the 
church, letting the door slam after him. Oth- 
ers followed. 

Those who feared to breast the gale hud- 
dled in the vestibule and planned some way by 
which they could speedily reach their homes, 
or waited for friends to come with extra 
wraps. 


74 


THE CHRISTMAN 


‘'Mrs. Hartwell, you live a long distance 
away,’’ said Mr. Hazzard, “let me go over to 
Runkle’s stables and have a closed carriage 
sent for you. It isn’t but a step and I don’t 
mind going out.” 

“Thank you very much,” returned Mrs. 
Hartwell, “but I think that my husband will 
come for me. If he does not I will walk over 
to the trolley cars.” 

Seeing that he could be of no service, Mr. 
Hazzard accompanied the Treadwells to their 
home. 

In a few moments he was back again. 

“Mrs. Hartwell,” he said, “the storm is very 
severe. It is doubtful whether the trolley cars 
are running. If they are, it’s three blocks over, 
and you might have to stand and wait for them 
a long time. It really isn’t safe. You would 
better let me order a carriage for you. I’ll 
wait here for Mr. Hartwell and tell him that 
you have gone.” 

“Well, perhaps you are right,” she replied. 
“You may get me the carriage, but it won’t 
be necessary for you to wait. If my husband 
finds the church closed, he will go over to the 


THE CHRISTMAN 


75 


parsonage and inquire. Mr. Osborn can tell 
him that I have gone.’’ 

While a half-dozen people still remained in- 
side the vestibule discussing the weather, a 
small boy, not yet seven years of age, was 
crouching behind the shelter of the stone steps 
without. He had been sent from Cranston to 
deliver a package and, having done his errand, 
was on his way back to the trolley cars, when, 
not being familiar with the streets, and blinded 
by the storm, he had lost his way. His thin, 
ragged clothes and white, pinched features pro- 
claimed the fact that he was one of the unfor- 
tunate waifs of the tenement district, who, illy 
clad and poorly fed, picked up a living where 
he could. 

Nearing the church, he observed a light 
shining through the window, and the thought 
came to him that he might find shelter within. 
It would be warmer and more comfortable 
than his own home, he felt sure of that, so he 
crawled down in the shadow, and waited his 
opportunity to slip in the door unobserved. 

Some people left the church, and he shrank 
closer to the snow-covered pavement. Then 
he ventured up the steps and, opening the door 


76 


The: CHRISTMAN 


a crack, peered in. Mr. Osborn stood under 
the gaslight. He was talking to several people, 
and the boy fled. A gust of wind nearly 
whirled him ofif the steps, and the cold pierced 
him to the bones. He took hold of the sill to 
keep from falling, and retreated into the 
shadow. Brushing the snow from his pinched 
face, he blew on his bare hands and stamped 
his rent shoes on the pavement. 

‘‘When der whole push of dem inside is gone 
and dey turns out der lights,’’ he said to him- 
self, ‘Men I’ll crawl in. I see my finish if I 
gets cotched.” 

A closed carriage drove up to the curbstone. 
A young man leaped out and entered the 
church. He had slammed the door of the ve- 
hicle after him, but it did not catch, and swung 
open again. 

The boy looked at the conveyance. It was 
all dark inside. He could see something flufify 
on the seat, but he knew that no one was with- 
in. Suddenly the thought came to him that he 
might not succeed in entering the church, and 
the carriage would furnish at least a tempo- 
rary shelter. 

“Gee! but it’s cold!” he exclaimed. “Guess 


THE CHRISTMAN 


n 


I can sneak under der bench. If it’s going to 
Cranston, it’s me game. Der boss on der 
perch’s got his picter covered and can’t see 
me. 

He glanced toward the church door and then 
at the driver, and, stretching out his stiffened 
legs, cautiously moved toward the vehicle. The 
wind almost took him off his feet again, and he 
stood and braced himself for an instant, then 
he moved forward, and darted quickly inside 
the carriage. Feeling under the seat, he found 
that the space was too small to conceal his 
body, so he climbed up on the cushions and 
drew the furry robe about him. 

It felt so warm and comfortable that he 
would have been glad to remain where he was 
all night. It was at least a temporary shelter, 
and if he was turned out, he could try the 
church again. 

In an instant he saw a glare of light. Some 
one was coming out of the vestibule, and he 
flung the robe from him and crouched back 
into the corner of the front seat. 

When Mr. Hazzard had assisted Mrs. Hart- 
well into the carriage, he closed the door and, 
giving directions to the driver, hurried away. 


78 


THE CHRISTMAN 


The boy did not dare to move, hardly to 
breathe. His limbs were cramped, and his 
heart beat fast. The rapid motion of the vehi- 
cle nearly jostled him off the seat, but he held 
his place and watched Mrs. Hartwell. He was 
in no immediate danger of discovery, for her 
head was turned toward the window. She was 
gazing out into the storm, thinking that, per- 
haps, she might see her husband on his way to 
the church. 

The confined air of the carriage and physi- 
cal weariness soon caused him to grow sleepy. 
After catching himself several times, he sank 
into a sound slumber. 

Suddenly the carriage whirled around a cor- 
ner, and in an instant he was thrown violently 
forward, falling in a heap on Mrs. Hartwell’s 
lap. 

With a cry of alarm she pushed him from 
her, and reached for the door, but the rattling 
of the wheels and the beating of the storm 
made it impossible to be heard, and the rapid 
movement of the vehicle caused her to realize 
that it would be dangerous to attempt an es- 
cape. 

‘^Gee!’’ exclaimed the boy, as he opened his 


THE CHRISTMAN 


79 


eyes, stared at Mrs. Hartwell, and then 
crawled back into his place. 

‘"I won’t fall on yer no more,” he said. The 
necessity of an explanation being manifest, he 
added, was awful cold out dere, so I clum 
in.” 

Mrs. Hartwell still held the door and stared 
in dumb astonishment at the heap in the cor- 
ner. An electric light on the pavement flashed 
its rays into the carriage for an instant, and 
she realized that the intruder was a mere child. 

^^Who are you?” she asked. 

Jack, just Jack,” he answered. 

‘'Where do you live?” she inquired. 

"In Cranston, down on der dumps,” he re- 
sponded. "I ain’t no fake. I just got off me 
beat, that’s all, and it was cold. I’ll get out 
now if yer’ll let me.” 

"No!” she said, as she stretched out her 
hand and held him. "You couldn’t get out 
now.” 

"Yer won’t run me in, will yer?” he asked, 
in frightened tones. "I didn’t mean no harm, 
that’s on der level. Yer can roast me all yer 
wants, if yer won’t run me in.” 

The carriage rattled on and she still grasped 


8o 


THE CHRISTMAN 


his arm, peering into his deep eyes, and study- 
ing his thin face with a kind of fascination 
that held her. She could not tell why, but her 
heart went out to him in his misery, and she 
began to ask herself how she could give him 
help. 

He tried several times to wrench himself 
away and escape. 

‘Won’t yer let me out?” he pleaded. ‘T tell 
yer I didn’t mean no harm. I was only cold.” 

“I’m not going to have you arrested, or al- 
low any harm to come to you,” she explained. 
“I merely want to learn all I can about you.” 

“Ain’t I told yer?” he replied. 

Soon the carriage stopped in front of Mrs. 
Hartwell’s house, and she said : 

“Here is where I live. Jack. Now, if you’ll 
come in with me. I’ll let you stay all night. It’s 
too cold for you to be on the street. You can 
go in the morning if you want to do so.” 

“Ah, rats!” he exclaimed. 

“Come !” she urged. “This is a hard storm 
and you’ve no place to go.” 

He held back, but for an instant. The wind 
and snow were too severe to allow him to hesi- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


8i 


tate long, and wonderingly he followed her 
steps and entered the house. 

Leading him into the sitting room, she 
pushed a hassock up near the open fire and told 
him to sit down. He looked about with a 
frightened expression on his face, and then 
slowly approached the glowing coals, and 
stretched out his benumbed fingers. 

‘‘Dis is hunkey,’’ he said appreciatively. 
Taking a knit spread from the sofa, she threw 
it about his shoulders, and asked, ‘‘Are you 
hungry 

‘1 hain’t had no grub since yesterday; dat’s 
on der level.’’ 

The tears came to her eyes as she turned 
away. ^^Stay where you are,” she ordered, 
^‘while I go and get you something to eat.” 

^'Dat goes,” he replied, ‘"and I’ll give yer der 
nickel der man gave me for der fare,” he re- 
plied. 

Returning with a bountiful supply of food, 
she drew a low table up to his side and spread 
the meal on it. The boy began to eat, without 
regard to the knife and fork, the food that she 
had placed by his plate. When he had satis- 
fied his hunger, she asked : 


82 


THE CHRISTMAN 


‘‘What was your idea, Jack, in getting into 
the carriage ? Didn't you know that you 
couldn't stay there?" 

“I seed der whole push of dem in der steeple 
house, and me racket was to get in and sneak ; 
I didn't mean to pinch nothin', dat's on der 
level. Den when der rattler came, I had a 
hunch. It was a cinch ter clum in. I couldn't 
get under der bench and sneak. When I seed 
yer picter, I knowed my finish had come sure." 

“What is your father's name?" she inquired. 

“Dad’s name is Hotten, Dan Hotten,” he 
answered. “What yer want ter know fer? Yer 
ain’t goin' ter snitch on me, be yer ?" 

“Don't you think that he'll worry about 
you?" she asked. 

“Na!" he returned, in evident disgust, “he 
doesn’t tire himself about us kids." 

“How about your mother?" she queried. 

“She's croaked!" he answered. “I takes 
care of myself. Lem helps sometimes. I sells 
papes at der joints. Der newsies lets me have 
'em, dat's on der level. I ain't givin' yer any 
song and dance, I ain't." 

“Who's Lem?" she inquired. 

“Lem's me brudder," he replied. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


83 


Mr. Hartwell came in. He had been to the 
church and had returned by the trolley cars. 

When he had overcome his surprise at see- 
ing the boy, and had heard his wife’s explana- 
tion of his presence, he questioned the child 
himself. Then a bed was provided, which was 
gladly accepted, with no other expression of 
gratitude than that which his thin face showed 
as it lit up with pleasure, and his lips uttered, 
as he looked at the warm coverings and ex- 
claimed, ^'Dat’s Jim dandy.” 

When Mr. Hartwell went to the room the 
next morning the boy was not there. He had 
crawled out the window before daybreak and 
had climbed down the post of the back porch 
and so escaped. 


84 


THE CHRISTMAN 


CHAPTER VIL 
the: counte:re‘e:ite:r. 

Mrs. Osborn had not been present at the 
prayer meeting, but seeing that the storm had 
gathered force, and that it was growing very 
cold, she built a fire in the sitting room grate, 
that her son might have a more cheerful wel- 
come, and then prepared some chocolate for 
him to drink. She had scarcely set the choco- 
late pot back on the stove when she heard his 
step. After a few moments he entered the 
house, and came at once into the kitchen, where 
she was, and greeted her with a kiss. They 
both returned to the sitting room, and he drew 
up a chair before the glowing coals of the open 
fire, stretched out his hands for warmth and 
tried to speak cheerfully, but there was con- 
straint in the tones of his voice and his brow 
was clouded. 

Realizing that something had gone wrong 


THE CHRISTMAN 


85 


with him, and that, in time, he would tell the 
cause of his depression, she asked no ques- 
tions, but went again to the kitchen and 
brought him some of the warm beverage that 
she had prepared. 

In a few moments he arose, went to the win- 
dow and looked out on the storm. Then he 
paced the floor uneasily, and went to the win- 
dow again. 

‘'Mother,’’ he said at last, as he pulled down 
the window shade and turned toward her, ‘T 
don’t know as I should complain ; I have a 
comfortable home, and you are just the dear- 
est and most considerate mother in the world ; 
my church is growing, and my people, for the 
most part, seem to be appreciative, but, some- 
how, I feel that there are forces at work 
against me. I do not know just what the mat- 
ter is, but the members don’t pull together, and 
I am, in some way, the cause of it. There is 
Mr. Crouch. He hasn’t many friends, but he 
has some. While they shake hands and try to 
be pleasant to me, I can see that they are not 
at ease, especially when he is standing near. 
They may be under obligations to him for 
aught I know. He’s a speculator and money 


86 


THE CHRISTMAN 


lender. They certainly act as though they were 
afraid to offend him. He was present at the 
service this evening, and made some remarks 
which were all right and appropriate enough, 
if he hadn’t gone out of his way to fling 
at my youth and inexperience. Then he 
quoted a verse, that Mr. Hazzard very un- 
wisely repeated, because Mr. Crouch hadn’t 
subscribed anything for the Stogan’s Mills 
School. Of course, it made him angry, and he 
scowled at me as though I were to blame. Mrs. 
Cherpin told me afterwards that Mr. Crouch 
would never forgive me. I cannot imagine 
why she should have said so, as I disapproved 
of Hazzard’s act as much as any one, though, 
knowing Crouch as I do, I realize it was a 
great temptation.” 

Mrs. Osborn paused in the act of taking 
her son’s empty cup to the other room for re- 
filling, and, looking at him, said : 

‘'John, you mustn’t expect every one to like 
you. While you do not want Mr. Crouch’s 
enmity, his friendship would not be a compli- 
ment, and, as for the rest you mentioned, 
you’re letting your imagination play too freely. 
Think of Father Root; he’s worth a dozen Mr. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


87 


Crouches, and he stands loyally by you, and 
there are the Treadwells and the Conovers and 
Mr. Hazzard and Mrs. Knibbs and her son and 
the Hartwells 

‘‘Yes, yes, I know,’’ he interrupted, “I have 
a host of friends. The Hartwells, they are as 
good as gold, only it’s funny, Mrs. Hartwell 
tells me so often that she’s praying for me. Of 
course, I like to have people pray for me, but 
her saying so makes me feel that perhaps I 
have a harder proposition in Rutherford than 
I realize.” 

“Never mind about that,” she returned. 
“You have the proposition, as you call it, and 
you must do your best. There are plenty to 
support you. There is Mr. and Mrs. Boyar 
and the Rockwells and the Cleverings, and a 
great many more.” 

“Yes, I realize it,” he answered. “I can’t 
see why the Cleverings should stand by me as 
they do. Miss Maud is engaged to that Bow- 
man, and he hasn’t any love for me, and Ruth 
is but a mere child.” 

“That reminds me, John, of something I 
want to speak to you about,” she said. “You 
stand and talk with Miss Clevering too long 


88 


THE CHRISTMAN 


after services. I don't suppose that you realize 
it, but some engaged men prefer that other men 
should not speak more than a passing word 
with their fiancees. Mr. Bowman looked at 
you rather disapprovingly last Sunday." 

‘‘Mr. Bowman!" exclaimed Mr. Osborn, 
somewhat petulantly, “Mr. Bowman ! It makes 
my blood boil to think of his ever marrying 
Maud Clevering. He isn’t one-quarter good 
enough for her. She’s one of a thousand. The 
finest young woman that I ever met and he’s — 
well, every one knows what he is." 

Mrs. Osborn gazed at her son in surprise. 
His frequent attentions to Miss Clevering 
came to her mind, and now he declared that 
she was the finest young woman he had ever 
met. What did he mean? He had never 
praised any girl so heartily before. She opened 
her mouth again to speak, when the door bell 
rang. 

Rising to answer the summons, she went 
into the hall, and her son followed her. A boy 
stood at the open door; his clothes were cov- 
ered with snow and he was kicking his toes 
against the sill. 

“Please, Mrs. Greaves wants to see the min- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


89 


ister right away,’’ said the boy, and at once 
began kicking the sill again. 

“Come in,” urged Mrs. Osborn, “you’re 
cold; come in and tell us what the trouble is.” 

“Can’t stop,” returned the boy. “Will the 
minister go and see her?” 

“What’s the matter ?” Mr. Osborn asked, as 
he came out of the sitting room. 

“Ed’s been run in by the police for making 
fake money,” the boy answered, “and Mrs. 
Greaves wants to see you quick.” 

“Tell her that I’ll be at her house in a few 
moments,” Osborn returned, as he reached for 
his overcoat, and the boy rushed off at high 
speed. 

In a short time the minister was breasting 
the storm on his way to the widow Greaves’ 
home. 

Reaching the place, he knocked, and, to his 
surprise. Miss Maud Clevering admitted him. 
Mr. Bowman had told her, on the way home 
from prayer meeting, that Edward Greaves 
had been arrested, she explained, and she came 
to see his mother at once. Mr. Bowman would 
stop at the house and tell her father, who 
would come for her later. 


90 


THE CHRISTMAN 


Following Miss Clevering, Mr. Osborn en- 
tered the kitchen, where the broken-hearted 
mother was swaying backward and forward 
before the stove, moaning to herself, and 
wringing her hands. 

The minister drew up a chair and tried to 
quiet the turbulence of her grief with comfort- 
ing words. By degrees she became more self- 
cont rolled, and managed to tell the story of 
her son’s fall and arrest. 

Edward, a young man some twenty-three 
years of age, had become acquainted with a 
notably bad character about town by the name 
of Gorgan, who was an engraver. The two 
soon became inseparable companions, much to 
the annoyance of Mrs. Greaves, who sought 
every opportunity to warn her son against the 
influence under which he was placing himself. 
Her remonstrances only made him sullen and 
disrespectful, and the acquaintance rapidly 
ripened into a close friendship. Soon after 
meeting Gorgan, young Greaves became very 
secretive, and absented himself from his moth- 
er’s company. When at home his main topic of 
conversation was the necessity of ready cash, 
and the benefits of possessing large wealth. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


91 


So things went on until that afternoon, when 
the police stopped a boy in the act of trying to 
pass a counterfeit coin, and, frightening him 
with threats of jail, secured the information 
that similar coins were being made by two 
young men in the third story of a vacant house. 
Following the clue, the police went to the place, 
and forced the door of the room. On entering, 
they found Greaves working at a portable forge 
and Gorgan busy cutting a die. Gorgan was 
the first to take in the situation, and, in an in- 
stant, leaped for the door. Passing a police- 
man, he fled down the stairs, where he was met 
by another officer of the law. Dodging arrest, 
he retraced his steps one flight and leaped out 
of a window and so escaped. 

Greaves tried to reach the roof by a ladder. 
Just as he was about to push back the scuttle, 
the ladder was knocked out from under him, 
and he fell to the floor, where he was held cap- 
tive. 

A stamp press, a full set of counterfeiters’ 
tools, some finely cut dies and a large number 
of half-finished coins were found in the room. 

When Mrs. Greaves finished telling the story, 
she began to sway and moan again, and Osborn 


92 


THE CHRISTMAN 


let her go on for some time, when he renewed 
his efforts to comfort her. 

While she owned the house in which she 
lived, she was poor, and depended, for the most 
part, on her son’s earnings. His wages had 
been small, but recently, she explained, he had 
more money, which he gave to her freely. 
Young Greaves’ fall and shame and her own 
pressing needs weighed heavily on her. 

In the course of a half hour Mr. Clevering 
came, and it was agreed that he and his daugh- 
ter should remain in the house overnight. Mr. 
Osborn promised the heart-broken mother that 
he would call at the jail on the next day and 
see her son. He then returned to his home. 

The following afternoon he went to Crans- 
ton and asked for an interview with the pris- 
oner, which was readily granted. He found 
young Greaves seated at the end of a bench in 
his cell; his face was turned toward the wall, 
but he quickly looked around. Seeing who his 
visitor was, he glared at him defiantly for a mo- 
ment, and then deliberately turned his back on 
him. 

Mr. Osborn spoke of the regret that he felt 
in finding one of his old Sunday School boys 


THE CHRISTMAN 


93 


in such a plight, and expressed sympathy for 
him in his trouble. He said that he had come 
with a special message of love from the prison- 
er’s home, and brought assurances that the 
church would follow him with its prayers and 
desires for his ultimate release. Then he be- 
gan questioning the young man, in order that 
he might obtain some explanations that would 
furnish comfort to the stricken mother ; but the 
prisoner kept his face turned away, and an- 
swered only in monosyllables. 

Again and again the minister sought to find 
a way to his heart, but it was in vain. The sul- 
len silence and short, sharp retorts of the young 
man gave him no encouragement. 

Seeing that he could accomplish nothing, he 
said that he must go, and asked the privilege 
of offering a short prayer before taking his 
leave. 

The request was no sooner made than the 
prisoner became violently excited, and, turning 
toward Mr. Osborn, he fixed his piercing eyes 
on him, and, flinging out his words in short, 
angry sentences, said : 

‘‘No, you can’t! I don’t want any pious twad- 
dle. I’ve done it and I’m caught. That’s all 


94 


THE CHRISTMAN 


there is about it. If it hadn’t been for church 
members, I wouldn’t be here. They’re all a set 
of hypocrites, and ministers are the worst of 
the lot. Yes, I was a member of your Sunday 
School seven years ago, one of those goody, 
goody boys. Learned Bible verses and sung 
hymns and spoke pieces at exhibitions. I got 
prizes, too, and all that sort of truck. Bah! 
The church and Sunday School is nothing but 
bluff. I wasn’t a fool. I saw through the 
whole thing. Knibbs was Superintendent, and 
wanted the largest school in town. He counted 
boys and girls as members who hadn’t attended 
for months. He handed his fake list in to the 
Sunday School Association, and got the banner 
that year. I wasn’t anything but a kid, but 
I saw faking paid, so I faked. Don’t come 
around here with your pious blubbering. If 
you want to pray, go and pray with Knibbs, he 
needs it.” 

‘'But I wasn’t the pastor of the church then,” 
Osborn insisted. 

“You are now, aren’t you?” returned the 
prisoner fiercely, “and you’ve got folks on your 
list of members that ain’t any more members 
than I am. They’ve been away for years. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


95 


Some have joined other churches. It’s a fake 
membership, and you know it.” 

Osborn was silent, and Greaves continued his 
tirade. He had risen and was now pointing his 
finger at the minister in his excitement. 

^‘I tell you the whole thing is rot. I was in 
your choir two years ago. What did I know 
about religion? Nothing. I had a good voice, 
and that’s all the Committee cared about. So I 
was hired to lead the service with my singing. 
It was a fake. They all knew that I wasn’t 
using my voice for God, but for cash. Church 
members called it worship. Gaddis and a lot 
outside called it profanity. I call it bluff.” 

He took a step nearer Osborn and shook his 
finger in his face, as he proceeded. 

‘‘You make all the people stand up when you 
take in new members. They promise that they’ll 
watch over those that are joining, and treat 
them with Christian affection, and gird them 
with their sympathies, and pray for them, and 
all that. Do they do it? Do they do it? No, 
they don’t, and they never intend to do it when 
they promise. It’s a fake pledge and they 
know it. Then, with that lie on their lips, they 
take the bread and wine. If the church coun- 


96 


THE CHRISTMAN 


terfeits for converts, why can’t I counterfeit 
for my mother? She’s poor and needs the 
money more than the church needs members. 
Pray with me ? Bah ! Go and pray with your 
church members.” 

Osborn was taken aback by this severe 
arraignment, and shrank before the fierceness 
of the prisoner. Could all this be true? Yes, 
in a sense, but only partially true at best. The 
young man had considered but one side of the 
subject, and had drawn his conclusions from a 
totally false premise. To argue with him would 
be useless. 

‘‘Since you will not permit me to pray with 
you before I go,” he said, “perhaps you will 
consent to shake hands.” 

“No, I won’t,” was the sullen retort, and he 
retreated to the further end of his cell. 

“Very well,” returned the minister, “you 
have severely criticised church methods, and 
passed an off-hand judgment on church mem- 
bers. I have not interrupted you, or presented 
any defence. One thing you have, however, 
forgotten, and it is essential. Christianity is 
not the same thing as churchanity. Christian- 
ity applies to Christ, churchanity applies to his 


THE CHRISTMAN 


97 


disciples, who are not perfect, who are some- 
times very imperfect. No outsider is more con- 
scious of that fact than the disciples themselves. 
In my ministry I have never asked men to be- 
lieve in or follow the church, or Christians, but, 
rather, to believe in and follow the Son of God. 
Before going, I want to ask you to construct 
some argument against Jesus Christ, or else ac- 
knowledge him as your Saviour and Lord. I 
will call again.” 

As the door closed, Osborn walked slowly 
down the long corridor and out into the streets. 
He had hoped to hear some word of explana- 
tion or penitence, but he had met only obduracy 
and self-justification. Moreover, the utter- 
ances of the young prisoner made him feel the 
imperfection of Christians as never before, and 
he prayed for wisdom, that he might guide his 
people into lives of greater service and loyalty 
to Christ. 


98 


THE CHRISTMAN 


CHAPTER VIII. 

SAM RUNKI^ie’S OPINIONS. 

^^Good-afternoon, Sam,’’ said Mr. Gaddis, 
as he picked up a broom that lay against the sta- 
ble door and began to brush the snow from his 
boots. thought that I’d just drop in and see 
if you had a copy of this morning’s Cranston 
Press. I hear that Ed. Greaves has retained 
Os. Bowman to manage his case. It seems like 
a pretty big hole for such a young sprig of a 
lawyer to pull any one out of.” 

‘‘Bowman ! Bowman retained by Ed. 
Grea-ves, did yer say ?” drawled Sam, as 
though trying to take in the significance of the 
statement. “Wel-1, praps it’s the ve-ry best he 
could do. Os. is sharp. I’d hire him every 
time, if I was guilty. If h-e can’t find some 
way in plain sight of pullin’ a crook out of a 
tight place, he’ll make a show o’ tuggin’ at the 
ropes while he’s diggin’ a tunnel.” 


THE CHRISTMAN 


99 


‘‘Well, it’s just as I always said, church folks 
are no better than others,” returned Mr. Gad- 
dis, as he seated himself on a bench and lit his 
cigar. “There’s Greaves now, he used to be a 
member of the Sunday School, and until re- 
cently he sang in the choir. They tell me Gor- 
gan’s father and mother were Baptists, and as 
for Os. Bowman, Ha! Ha! Ha! he’s a joke; 
growing awful pious of late, attending church 
and prayer meeting as regular as clockwork 
and looking after the Sunday School library 
like a major. Ha — there’s more than one way 
of getting in with prospective clients. He 
knows enough to pick out the best church in 
town for his dress parade. Ha! Ha! Ha!” 

“And to get a wife whose father has to 
stretch his fingers to reach around his purse,” 
added Sam with a chuckle. 

“There’s one thing strikes me as curious,” 
continued Mr. Gaddis. “There’s going to be 
an awful row in the church over there. So 
Mrs. Gaddis says. It’s all about the minister; 
he don’t suit some of the folks. Bowman hates 
him worse than poison, and the Cleverings 
think he’s all right.” 

“A row! I should think so,” broke in a 


Lore 


lOO 


THE CHRISTMAN 


voice from the stable door. Both men looked 
up and saw Mr. Crouch, who had taken off his 
hat and was brushing the snow from its rim 
with his sleeve, as he advanced, ‘^and it's 
enough to make a row. The Dominie over 
there is a fool. I'd say what kind of a fool he 
is, too, if I wasn't a church member and don't 
believe in cursing. He wasn't content with go- 
ing all to pieces that first Sunday, but must 
needs cover his failure by insulting his mem- 
bers and flinging underhanded personal re- 
marks at them. Last week he got mad at me 
because I wouldn't subscribe anything for Sto- 
gan’s Mills Mission, and put young Hazzard up 
to deriding me in public." 

‘‘Ye-s, Rob, I heard about yer givin’ the Al- 
mighty all yer silver and yer gold," returned 
Sam, ‘‘but objectin' to givin' him a check on 
the bank. That 'ere flourish of yourn at the 
end of what yer had to say was mighty fine. I 
couldn't o' elecuted better myself." 

“ 'Twasn't that! 'twasn't that at all," insisted 
Crouch, ‘^That mission over there in the bogs 
isn't doing any good any way. When Bowman 
brought widow Greaves around to my house 
last night to borrow a couple o' hundred dol- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


lOI 


lars or so, I helped her out without a question. 
I’m not mean, if I don’t throw my money into 
a mud hole at Osborn’s beck and call. I’ll put 
my cash where I think it’ll do the most good, 
without consulting the dominie, and if he hits 
me in the face for it. I’ll hit him back, see if I 
don’t” 

^‘The widder owns the house she lives in,” 
returned Sam, with a twinkle in his eye. 

’Tisn’t much, no, ’tisn’t much, to be sure, but 
then it’s worth a mighty sight more ’an two 
hundred and fifty; required security, most 
likely; ’twouldn’t be beesness not to.” Then 
he took a package of tobacco from his pocket 
and filled his pipe. Holding a lighted match 
over the bowl, he began to draw in his breath 
with a short, kissing sound, while still attempt- 
ing to talk. 

"‘Cha-rity is a Christian virtue” — ^pufT — 
^‘givin’ to widders is charity” — another pufif. 
^'Lawyers is brokers what finds out about needy 
widders” — another puff, certain needy 

widder wants to open a little pin an’ needle 
store” — another puff. ‘‘Doesn’t need more ’an 
two hundred to do it” — another puff. “Will 
return the money in six months, at most a 


102 


THE CHRISTMAN 


year’’ — another puff. ‘‘Gets loan from a benev- 
olent gentleman” — another puff. “Gentleman 
wouldn’t take usua-ry fer a sawmill” — another 
puff. “But has a private understandin’ with 
the broker” — another puff. “Commission’s 
fifty dollars, please, says the broker” — another 
puff. “Benevolent gentleman would like to help 
some more needy widders” — a whole succes- 
sion of puffs. “What in the name of good- 
ness is the matter with this ’ere tobacco ? Gad- 
dis, reach me another match. Mr. Crouch, 
what did I hear yer wife said to the preacher 
t’other day when he called ?” 

“Ha ! ha ! ha !” laughed Crouch, glad to turn 
the subject, “but here comes Dick. I was just 
about to tell Sam and Gaddis how Mrs. Crouch 
met the dominie.” 

Mr. Cherpin put his glasses up to his eyes as 
he entered the stable and looked at the bench 
where the two men were sitting. Mr. Gaddis 
moved along to give him room. 

“Ah — a — thank you, gentlemen,” said the 
newcomer, as he sat down. “Fine day, you 
know, bright as twilight, as Mrs. Cherpin 
would say. You were speaking about the min- 
ister; unusual man that man Osborn. Got a 


THE CHRISTMAN 


103 


fine woman for a mother, too. Church never 
in better condition.’’ 

‘‘Unusual ! yes, you’re right about that, 
Dick,” Mr. Crouch replied with a half sneer, 
“but let me tell you how my wife met him when 
he came to call on her the other day. It’s the 
richest thing out. The collector from the Gas 
company came to our house with the bill for 
October. As neither Mrs. Crouch nor I were 
home, he left word that he’d drop in later and 
get his pay. Well, about three o’clock my wife 
heard the door bell ring. She was upstairs sew- 
ing, and thought, of course, that he had come 
back for his money. So she grabbed her 
pocketbook and ran down lickety cut to let him 
in. On opening the door, there stood the domi- 
nie, as big as life, come to make a call. Ha! 
ha! ha! It pretty nigh took her breath away. 
Ha! ha! ha! Turning red in the face, what do 
you suppose she said?” 

As neither of the men could tell what Mrs. 
Crouch had said, Mr. Crouch broke forth in an- 
other series of chuckles. After a few moments 
of suppressed merriment, he blurted out : 

“Why, I swan, if she didn’t up and say right 
out, ‘Oh, I thought you were the gas man,’ ” 


104 


THE CHRISTMAN 


and Mr. Crouch slapped Mr. Gaddis’ knee and 
laughed so loudly and heartily that his compan- 
ions were constrained to join in his mirth. 

“Wasn’t far out of the way, was she?” he 
asked, when he was able to get his breath. 
“Hit the nail squarely on the head without in- 
tending to do it. Oh, I thought it was great.” 

“If it wa-sn’t for ther gas man,” Sam 
drawled, as he turned and grinned at his com- 
panion, “I reck-on yer’d have to go back to tal- 
ler dips. Yer wouldn’t want to do that, would 
yer, Rob?” 

Mr. Crouch had been an open opponent of 
Osborn’s predecessor, and had done much to 
create a sentiment against him, and the livery 
man’s question irritated him, so he made no re- 
ply, but continued his remarks. 

“A dollar a thousand is all that the best gas 
is worth,” he declared, “but I swan if I’d give 
fifty cents a thousand for such as we get every 
Sunday from our pulpit.” 

Crouch laughed at his own attempt at humor, 
and Mr. Gaddis joined with him, but the other 
two men only smiled. 

“Perhaps you wouldn’t give much for our 
minister’s preaching,” Mr. Cherpin remarked, 


THE CHRISTMAN 


los 


‘^but you know I think that he’s worth two 
thousand a year if he’s worth a cent. It’s a 
shame for our people to pay him only twelve 
hundred and his house. Any man who spends 
ten years in getting ready to preach ought to 
be given not only his living, but extra for back 
time, gas or no gas. Ain’t I right, Sam?” 

‘‘Ca-n’t say as yer are,” returned Runkle. 
^Treachers, like other folks, ought to git jest 
what they earn, whether they’ve been schoolin’ 
one year or fifty. E-very week they spend a- 
gittin’ ready ought to make ’em worth je-st so 
much more, but it don’t alius. Three years a 
grubbin’ an’ reflectin’ an’ gittin’ idees is worth 
a sight more ’an ten years a-playin’ ball an’ 
lollin’ over books. Edication isn’t soakin’ in, 
as some young folks think; ‘"it’s grindin’ in, 
an’ that with a stone pestle. Beesness men help 
their clerks to git along in the world by makin’ 
wages tally with ther work an’ not with the 
time taken in findin’ out how to do it.” 

“But what a minister gets isn’t wages, you 
know, Sam,” insisted Mr. Cherpin. “I’ve al- 
ways been taught that money could never pay 
for spiritual services, and that a minister’s sal- 
ary was not a compensation but a support.” 


io6 


THE CHRISTMAN 


“Tweedledee an* tweedledum, 

Strike the lyre and beat the drum,** 

replied Sam. “That’s a ve-ry pretty idee an’ 
oughter be cherished, but I reckon if the church 
didn’t git anything it wouldn’t give anything. 
Salary is wages and wages is salary, no matter 
what yer call it, but it isn’t all on one side ; the 
people have got to be compensated, as well as 
the preacher.” 

He paused to puff on his pipe and blow a 
cloud of smoke in the air. When it had dis- 
appeared he went on : 

“Tit fer tat, give an* take. 

Fire fer fat, brush an’ break. 

Money fer work, hand fer heart, bearin’ fer 
speakin’, interest fer warmth, labor fer pains. 
Tha-t’s what I tell the folks over at our church, 
an’ we ain’t got near so many members as yer 
have. Cash is nothin’ but wages, je-est simple 
wages, an’ if cash is all the preacher gits, he’s 
only a hired servant. I allers maintain that it 
isn’t a squa-r deal fer people to say to the 
preacher, ‘Here’s yer money, now it’s yer job 
to run the church, git ther, or bounce.’ If the 
minister pulls the coach up hill, the members 


THE CHRISTMAN 


107 


ain’t got a-ny right to ride inside or hang on 
behind an’ pull back. Being in the traces is a-11 
right fer a preacher, if his members are in the 
traces with him, but if they ain’t, well then, so 
far as the people are concerned, he’s in beesness 
jest as much as the butcher, the baker an’ the 
candlestick maker, a-n gets wages.” 

Just at that moment Osborn was seen hurry- 
ing down the street. He looked in at the stable 
door and greeted the men with a pleasant smile 
and wave of the hand, then he hastened on. 

Mr. Crouch looked after him and turned 
away with a half audible growl, while Mr. Gad- 
dis curled his lip. 

*‘Fine man, very fine man,” remarked Mr. 
Cherpin. 

‘‘Gentlemen,” said Sam, ‘T reckon that what- 
ever that preacher may say in the pulpit on 
Sundays, ther is-n’t a man in town but’ll be 
better fer putting it in practice during the 
week.” 

Mr. Crouch immediately left the stable, say- 
ing that he must go home. In reality he wanted 
to follow Mr. Osborn and find out whether he 
was on his way to Mrs. Greaves’ house. Sam’s 
remarks about the loan annoyed him. Not that 


io8 


THE CHRISTMAN 


he cared what the liveryman thought concern- 
ing the transaction, but he did not want it to 
become town talk. The fact that Sam had 
been informed what terms he had imposed on 
Mrs. Greaves indicated that some one, perhaps 
the widow herself, had made them known. He 
was therefore relieved when he saw Mr. Os- 
born turn and go directly to the parsonage. 

The minister had that afternoon been to Sto- 
gan's Mills. The district was barren, neglected 
and uninviting. The people were poor and 
shiftless. He had tried to interest several of 
them whose children attended the school in the 
improvements that were to be made in the mis- 
sion house, but had not been successful. 

On his way home he was obliged to pass 
through a street where a number of Hebrew 
families lived. Just as he reached the corner 
a little girl ran up to him dragging a sled, and 
begged that he would give her a ride. 

He took hold of the rope and stepping briskly 
pulled her up the incline of the street ; then he 
fell into a run. The rapid movement delighted 
the child and she laughed with glee. When he 
reached a corner, he turned tlie sled around 


THE CHRISTMAN 


109 


and, giving it a start, let the girl coast back to 
the place from which she had come. 

Several women had noticed his ready assent 
to the child’s request, and the heartiness with 
which he had entered into the sport, and he 
heard one ask another : 

‘‘And who may he be ?” 

Though the answer was not intended for his 
ears, he caught the words distinctly : 

“He’s one of those Christmen from Ruther- 
ford.” 

It was the woman’s way of designating him 
as a Christian minister. 

“A Christman, a Christman,” he repeated to 
himself. It seemed almost profane, and yet 
had not the disciples of Jesus been called Chris- 
tians ever since the persecution that arose after 
the death of Stephen? 

“A Christman! then surely an annointed man, 
one set apart and sent of God for a sacrificial 
service,” he said to himself. “A Christman im- 
bued with Christ’s spirit, possessed with 
Christ’s power, entering by faith into Christ’s 
atoning work. How could it be that he, a 
weak and sinful mortal, should be thus hon- 
ored.” 


no 


THE CHRISTMAN 


The thought took such a hold on his mind 
that he felt that he must be alone with God 
and ask for divine wisdom and strength, that 
he might be faithful to his call. 

This was the longing that filled his soul and 
that caused him to walk so rapidly through the 
streets of Rutherford when the group of talk- 
ers saw him from Sam Runkle's stable. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


III 


CHAPTER IX. 

Meeting rut wome:n’s society. 

Mr. Osborn had made several calls on Ed- 
ward Greaves, but failed to secure from him 
any evidence of genuine repentance. After his 
first visit, the prisoner talked more calmly and 
less critically, but continued to palliate his 
offence. 

At last the trial was over, and the counter- 
feiter was adjudged guilty. The day on which 
he received his sentence found him taciturn 
and sullen, but restless, and apparently indif- 
ferent to consequences. He would pace back- 
ward and forward in his cell, like a caged ani- 
mal, stopping now and then to look through 
the narrow barred window, and gaze at the 
bit of blue sky that was visible. Despair that 
comes after hope is the most deadly, and the 
prisoner had hoped, notwithstanding his ac- 
knowledged guilt. 


II2 


THE CHRISTMAN 


It seemed as though every one in Ruther- 
ford was in the court room. The crowds filled 
every available space. The air was close and 
stifling. The people had looked toward the 
door for the entrance of the prisoner so often 
that they had become weary. 

At last some one spoke. The voice was with 
authority, but the crowd paid no attention to 
what was said. Long waiting had deadened 
interest. Then there was a movement at the 
head of the stairs. People turned to ascertain 
the cause. The movement became more pro- 
nounced, and a general craning of necks fol- 
lowed. A man near the entrance said, ''Here 
he comes!’’ and one and another repeated, 
"Here he comes!” "Here he comes!” 

Pale, trembling, and with downcast vision, 
the prisoner entered the courtroom between 
two deputy sheriffs. Scores of people looked 
at him in morbid curiosity. Lifted heads with 
gaping mouths and staring eyes — hard and pit- 
iless faces— were turned toward him from 
every side. Guarded and shuffled down the 
aisle by his keepers, he was quickly pushed in- 
side the railing. 

Glancing up for an instant, he saw many of 


THE CHRISTMAN 


1 13 

his old companions. There was his mother, 
with Mr. Osborn by her side. He dropped his 
face to the floor again, and waited. 

Suddenly the ringing sound of the gavel was 
heard, and a man's voice uttered the command : 
“There must be no demonstration. The court 
officers will preserve order." Then there was 
silence, the silence of expectancy. Men are 
always dumb before the unknown and the im- 
pending. 

The prisoner lifted his face again. It was 
expressionless. His eyes peered into vacancy, 
and he seemed as stolid as a statue. 

The pronouncing of the sentence appeared 
to produce no effect on him. Not a muscle 
moved, not a word escaped his lips. The crowd 
thought that he was defiant. The Cranston 
Press said the next day that he was brazen, but 
the truth was, he was stunned, and was making 
a supreme effort at self-control. Some one 
thought that he swayed as though he would 
fall, and that he bit his lips. God alone read 
his heart. A thunderbolt startles and then sub- 
dues. A whirlwind uproots the trees and leaves 
them prostrate. One of the deputies touched 
his arm and said, “This way," and he started 


THE CHRISTMAN 


114 

up as from a dream, and dragged his way be- 
tween his keepers into the open air, and then 
back to the prison walls. There are nights in 
which no stars shine. Such was the night that 
settled over Cranston and wrapped itself about 
the prisoner’s soul. 

Mr. Osborn led the broken-hearted mother 
to a carriage and she was driven rapidly back 
to Rutherford. People sometimes exist with- 
out living, they continue to breathe while starv- 
ing. Mrs. Greaves was about to make the ex- 
periment. 

The next week the women of the church met 
at the parsonage, and Mrs. Osborn spoke of 
Mrs. Greaves’ sorrow and heroic effort to 
maintain herself, and asked for the sympathy 
and help of all who were present. Then she 
went on to say that the grief-stricken mother 
was a member of their church, and therefore 
had a claim on their generosity. She felt sure, 
she declared, that all the women of the Society 
would trade at the little store that she was 
about to open, and would use their influence to 
induce others to trade there also. When Mrs. 
Osborn had finished speaking, Mrs. Cherpin, 
who had been fanning very vigorously, de- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


111 

dared that she did not altogether agree with 
the pastor’s mother. 

'It’s all very well,” she said, "for us to 
trade with a woman who needs money, and 
then call it benevolence, but I say it’s nothing 
more or less than charity, plain, simple charity, 
without any varnish, and that for the mother 
of a brazen prison convict who wears stripes. 
Besides, trying to live by selling papers of pins 
and sticks of candy is simply ridiculous. She 
must be as blind as Argus, and as stupid as 
Nestor, to think of such a thing.” 

"But what else can she do?” Mrs. Osborn 
inquired. 

"I’m sure I don’t know,” returned Mrs. 
Cherpin. "What do other people do? For 
one thing, I suppose she could take in washing, 
or do day’s work.” 

"She isn’t strong enough for that,” declared 
Mrs. Conover. "Now, there was Susan 
Stonely. Her husband died, was killed in the 
foundry. You remember, don’t you, Mrs. 
Knibbs? Well, she was left perfectly penni- 
less, as you might say. She wasn’t ” 

"Penniless or not penniless,” broke in Mrs. 
Boyar, "Mrs. Greaves isn’t strong enough to 


ii6 


THE CHRISTMAN 


do her own washing, let alone the washing of 
others. She’s as slender as a reed, and as thin 
as a rail. It would kill me in three months. 
With all my aches and pains I couldn’t do it, 
and I’m stronger than she is.” 

‘T was just about to say,” observed Mrs. 
Conover, ‘‘that Mrs. Greaves wasn’t as strong 
as Susan Stonely, and she tried to do day’s 
work ” 

Just at that point Mrs. Conover was inter- 
rupted by the voices of several women talking 
at once, each suggesting some way by which 
Mrs. Greaves might earn her living. 

Finally, Mrs. Gaddis raised her voice 
so as to be heard above the others, and asked : 
‘‘Why don’t she get married again, she isn’t so 
old, and her husband has been dead going on 
ten years?” 

The question was only greeted with laughter, 
and the discussion drifted into marriage and 
the importance of men leaving a competency 
for their families. 

Mrs. Rhyder brought them back to the sub- 
ject by saying that marriages of convenience 
didn’t help women much, as giving one’s hand 
without one’s heart, always led to mismating, 


THE CHRISTMAN 


and that while mismating sometimes furnished 
bread and butter, it didn’t furnish comfort, and 
Mrs. Greaves needed comfort as much as food. 

‘‘We all know,” observed Mrs. Conover, 
Susan Stonely was much stronger than 
Mrs. Greaves, and she was only able to work 
three months ” 

‘‘Better let her go her own way, and lend a 
hand,” interposed Mrs. Knibbs, “she knows 
what she can do better than we do.” 

“That’s what I say,” rejoined Mrs. Tread- 
well. 

“I say so, too,” chimed in Mrs. Conover, 
“and what’s more, if we go to interfering, it 
will be another case of Susan Stonely. When 
she finally broke down, she hadn’t the strength 
of a fly, and became dependent on her friends. 
You remember, Mrs. Bubble?” 

“Yes, I remember very well,” returned Mrs. 
Bubble. “She was rehinged, I should say un- 
hinged, from tuft to toe. She laughed and cried 
like a child, and went on so with her parrots- 
isms, parrot, parrot, parrotsisms, that it was 
just terrible.” 

“I move, Mrs. Chairman,” called out Mrs. 
Gaddis — she had been writing on a slip of pa- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


ii8 

per, scratching out and rewriting’ — ‘T move 
the members of this organization this motion, 
that they spread on the Society their sym- 
pathies for Mrs. Greaves, and pledge each 
other, in person or otherwise, if they deem it 
advisable, to encourage her in all her lawful 
undertakings, when opportunity may occur, 
and leave the trading matter to the self-respect 
of each one separately and together, to act ac- 
cording to her good pleasure.’^ 

should prefer to have the wording of any 
resolution that we consider left to a commit- 
tee,’' said Mrs. Treadwell, ‘'and instruct such 
committee to embody a pledge of material as- 
sistance.” 

"So should I,” "and I,” "and I,” called out 
several of the women. 

"This is all unparliamentary. The motion 
is not seconded,” interposed Mrs. Cherpin. 

"What if it is?” inquired Mrs. Bubble. "I 
should like to know what our forefathers 
fought and bled for, in the Revolutionary war, 
if it wasn’t to do away with parliaments, and 
all that sort of thing.” 

"I second the motion,” shouted some one. 

The resolution was lost. A committee was 


THE CHRISTMAN 


119 

appointed and a suitable expression of the sym- 
pathy of the Society was written and presented 
with a pledge of material aid, which was car- 
ried by a majority of five, and Miss Clevering, 
the Secretary of the meeting, was ordered to 
notify Mrs. Greaves. 

When Miss Clevering called on the widow 
the next morning she found Sam Runkle and 
Mr. Osborn there. They were unloading some 
boards in front of the house. 

After a pleasant ‘'good morning” to the 
men, she knocked, and Mrs. Greaves came to 
the door. Instead of inviting her visitor to en- 
ter, she looked at her, and then at the two men 
in surprise. 

Sam at once left the minister arid went to 
explain what he was doing. 

“Ye-r see, Mrs. Greaves,” he said, with an 
awkward twist of his hand, ‘T happened to find 
some wood piled up in the lumber yard that 
didn’t belong there, so I just pulled it down an’ 
threw it in that there wagon of mine, thinking 
that perha-ps yer might have some use for it. 
I’ve spoken to a carpenter I know,” he added, 
“an’ he-’ll drop in this afternoon, an’ nail up 
shelves for yer merchandise. He’s going to 


120 


THE CHRISTMAN 


put up some in a store on the main street to- 
morrow, or-r next day, or-r on some other day, 
I disremember which, and he wanted to get his 
hand in ahead, so as to do it right, and I told 
him to come arou-nd here and practice. I 
thought that yer wouldn’t mind.” 

Believing that Sam had stolen the wood, 
Mrs. Greaves was about to protest against its 
delivery. Miss Clevering, noticing that Mr. 
Osborn had hard work to keep from laughing, 
surmised that the liveryman had purchased 
the boards and was trying to avoid credit for 
his generosity, and persuaded the widow, who 
half guessed the truth, to let them be used. 

Later in the day she called again to see 
whether the promised carpenter had come, and 
found him at work, under Mr. Osborn’s super- 
intendence. She would have been glad to have 
remained and talked with Mrs. Greaves, but 
Mr. Bowman had, of late, become very bitter 
against the minister. Fearing that jealousy 
might be the cause, she deemed it unwise to 
remain long in his company, even though an- 
other person might be present. Therefore, she 
prepared at once to go. 

Offering her hand first to Mrs. Greaves, she 


THE CHRISTMAN 


121 


turned to her pastor, and, in a friendly way, 
thanked him for his interest. 

Was it imagination? or was there something 
unusual in the young minister's grasp that day? 
She thought that she recognized a warmth and 
continuance in it that had never been there be- 
fore, and wondered if it were so. One thing 
was certain, she felt a distinct thrill of pleasure 
in the holding. Yes, she was sure of that, and 
it frightened her, for she was engaged to an- 
other man. Her heart began to beat rapidly, 
and her cheeks burned. Hardly knowing what 
she did, she glanced up at his face. He was 
looking directly into her eyes, and the pressure 
on her hand tightened. Then she fled to her 
home, trembling like a frightened deer. 

Osborn was greatly agitated in his mind over 
the occurrence, and, after giving the carpenter 
specific directions as to his work, he left the 
house and hurried to the parsonage. Going 
directly to his room, he threw himself into a 
chair and gazed out the window for a long 
time. 

‘‘My God, what have I done?" he said to 
himself, ‘‘why didn’t I crush my feeling for 
that girl before it mastered me. I never in- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


122 


tended that she should find out that I loved her, 
but I couldn't help it. I couldn't help it. It 
wasn't right. No! it wasn't right, but I couldn't 
help it. Bowman isn't fit for her, but that 
makes no difference, she believes in him. Sev- 
eral people have tried to let her know that he 
isn't what he appears to be, but she won't listen 
to them. It's an infatuation, a delusion, and 
she'll stick to him if it kills her. If he wasn't 
in the way I could win her, I know that I could. 
I saw it in her face." 

He arose and walked up and down the room 
for half an hour. At one moment he told him- 
self that he loved the girl, and that he could 
not be happy without her; at the next moment 
he condemned himself for his affection. Then 
he prayed, prayed for himself and for her, and 
plead with God to deliver him from this thral- 
dom. 

We have been told that the heart of him who 
truly loves is a Paradise on earth. Osborn 
truly loved, but his affection had made the 
Paradise a battlefield where right and wrong 
struggled for the mastery, and he prayed that 
God would send his avenging angel with fiery 
sword to drive his passion forth. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


123 


There was but one course to pursue. He 
saw it clearly: seek help of Heaven and put 
forth all the force of his will to crucify his 
love. 

Bringing his fist down on the dresser, he 
exclaimed : ‘Tdl do it ! Fll do it ! From this mo- 
ment she shall never receive any attentions 
from me that would not be agreeable to Mr. 
Bowman, and whatever my feelings toward 
her may be, she shall never again discover them 
in words or looks.” 

Miss Clevering’s feelings were very dififerent 
from those of Mr. Osborn. She had admired 
and respected the young minister from the time 
that she first met him ; her esteem had ripened 
into friendship, and then into such cordial 
familiarity that she had often remarked to her 
father that he seemed to her more like a 
brother than a pastor. 

Being always thoughtful and considerate of 
others, sympathetic and kind to the poor, and 
actively engaged in church work, she was fre- 
quently thrown in Mr. Osborn’s company, and 
always enjoyed being with him. She would 
not have acknowledged, even to herself, that 
he was anything more than a friend, yet the 


124 


THE Christman 


intimacy had grown to such a degree that it 
had been noticed and commented upon by oth- 
ers. She was therefore surprised and alarmed 
at the minister's behavior. Not realizing that 
she had herself fostered his love, she blamed 
him bitterly for his action, charging him with 
dishonor, and declaring aloud that she would 
never speak to him again. 

When the first outburst of her anger had 
subsided, she reviewed her conduct, and con- 
fessed that she had herself been at fault. Find- 
ing a sympathy and companionship in her pas- 
tor that she could never secure from Mr. Bow- 
man, she had sought his society, and uninten- 
tionally allowed herself to become attached to 
him, in a way that she knew was unfair to the 
man to whom she was engaged. 

Miss Covering's lover had moved to the dis- 
trict several years before. Opening a law office 
in Cranston, he had sought a boarding place 
in Rutherford. The church to which she be- 
longed was convenient. He attended the serv- 
ices regularly, and soon became a member. His 
activity and zeal in advancing the interests of 
the organization brought him into favorable re- 
lationship with others, and led to his frequentljj 


THE CHRISTMAN 


125 


meeting her. It was not long before he became 
a constant and welcome caller at her house. 
Captivated by his attentions, and believing him 
to be a young man of Christian integrity, she 
mistook personal liking for heart affection, and 
at last yielded to his entreaties and pledged her- 
self to become his wife. 

As time passed, she realized that, while he 
was always considerate of her wishes, and 
ready to co-operate with her in the work of the 
church, there was something about his manner 
that spoke of insincerity, so that she grew to 
consult him less and less about her benevolent 
enterprises. Without being able to give any 
reason, she instinctively felt that he did not 
view life as she did, and that harmony of opin- 
ion on things that were vital was lacking. 
There was an air of unreality in all that he did 
for her along religious lines that troubled her, 
yet it was not sufficiently pronounced to call for 
any protest. 

Her sense of justice often caused her to ex- 
cuse his manner, and declare herself to be at 
fault. And she constantly tried to believe that 
the love they bore for each other would, in 
time, make them one in thought and purpose. 


126 


THE CHRISTMAN 


CHAPTER X. 

MR. OSBORN’S RE:CRE:aTION. 

The summer passed and another winter 
came, a cold, raw winter that caused people to 
dread the streets and linger about the open 
fires. 

Mr. Osborn, in consultation with the officers 
of his church, had arranged to join with the 
other churches of the place in holding a series 
of special services under the direction of an 
evangelist. 

Mr. Hilton, who was employed to lead in the 
work, was an earnest man, with a large body 
and a warm heart, but not possessed of very 
good judgment. Having a deep hold on the 
Scriptures, he drew many of his illustrations 
from the lives of the Patriarchs, Prophets, 
Christ and the Apostles. Reverent and quiet 
in his manner, conversational in his delivery, 
eloquent in his descriptions, sympathetic and 


THE CHRISTMAN 


127 


persuasive in his pleadings, clear in his exposi- 
tions of Scripture, forcible in his presentation 
of truth, bold and direct in his demands and 
earnest even to intensity in his invitations, he 
soon obtained a strong hold on nearly all who 
heard him. The church was crowded at every 
service, and many went forward for special 
prayer, and expressed a desire to lead a Chris- 
tian life. 

Mr. Osborn was deeply affected by the 
preaching, and spent almost all the time that 
he was not at public service, in prayer, Bible 
study and calling for religious conversation. 
A deep longing possessed his soul. He wanted 
to be used of God in bringing men to Christ, 
and he prayed for spiritual power. The name 
that had been applied to him on the street by a 
Hebrew woman reverted to his mind with re- 
newed force, and led him to seek, as never be- 
fore, the spirit of a true Christman. His whole 
being was so swayed by this desire that his 
feeling of love for Miss Clevering appeared for 
the time to be almost eliminated from his life. 

During those days of religious fervor, he 
would frequently leave the evangelist and speak 
himself at Stogan’s Mills, or in some overflow 


128 


THE CHRISTMAN 


meeting. Those who heard him noticed that 
his manner was less constrained, his message 
more spiritual and direct, and his deliverance 
more strenuous and earnest, than on former oc- 
casions. He felt himself that he was a better 
man than before Mr. Hilton came, and that his 
preaching took a stronger hold on the hearts of 
the people. Living, as it were, on the mountain 
top, he never imagined that he would ever de- 
scend again into the valley. 

One evening, after conducting an overflow 
service and preaching with unusual power, he 
called for an inquiry meeting. A large number 
of people followed him into an adjoining room. 
Then he spoke again, and urged an immediate 
decision for God. Several young people ac- 
knowledged the claim of Christ on their lives. 

His joy was great, and, in a state of spiritual 
exhilaration, he approached Mrs. Hartwell, 
who had just been praying with one of the new 
converts. 

^‘Mrs. Hartwell,’’ he said, ^^this is glorious. 
One week of personal work is worth a whole 
life of theological study.” 

She looked at him tenderly and sympatheti- 
cally. A long life of Christian service and hal- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


129 


lowed experience had made her acquainted with 
the human heart and clarified her spiritual 
vision. She saw that he was living on his emo- 
tions, was sorely taxing his physical strength, 
and that the nervous strain under which he 
worked was not only unnecessary, but could not 
be endured for any great length of time, yet 
she feared to warn him, lest she should seem 
to discourage his efforts and dampen his ardor. 

After a moment’s hesitation, she said : 'T re- 
joice with you over the results of these serv- 
ices. They have kindled a new fire of love in 
my soul, and made me feel the power of divine 
grace, but, oh, Mr. Osborn, you will pardon 
me if I seem to find fault. I am old enough 
to be your mother, but I feel that you are ex- 
pending too much strength. Rest is imperative. 
You cannot stand this strain much longer.” 

‘‘I never felt stronger in my life,” he re- 
turned, ‘'and, besides. I’d rather break from 
service than rust from neglect.” 

"Neither the one nor the other is necessary,” 
she replied. "You know that I have often said 
that I prayed for you. My prayers have been 
more constant of late, for I have seen many in- 


130 


THE CHRISTMAN 


dications that God wants to use you mightily 
in the world if you will only let Him.” 

He looked at her in surprise. He had re- 
ceived her frequent assurances of intercession 
as indications that antagonistic influences were 
at work in the church that would ultimately 
lead to his being driven from the field. He had 
never imagined that she thought his own Chris- 
tian character was not what it should be. 

^'What do you mean?” he stammered. ‘‘How 
can I do more than I am doing?” 

“You might do less and accomplish more, 
oh, so much more,” she answered, “and that is 
what God wants.” 

“Why, Mrs. Hartwell, you astonish me,” he 
exclaimed. “One cannot do too much. After 
we have done all that we can we are unprofita- 
ble servants, you know, and as for accomplish- 
ments, that belongs to God alone. One plants, 
another waters, but God gives the increase.” 

“You do not understand, you do not under- 
stand!” she replied. “His upholding is mani- 
fest in our dependence. You are trying to make 
it manifest in physical and emotional energy. 
Strength comes through quietness and confi- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


dence. Forgive me if I have hurt you; I so 
long to have you a true Christman/’ 

"‘A true Christman,” the very same title that 
had so greatly impressed him when used by the 
Hebrew woman. Where had she heard it? 
Why should it be repeated at this time? To be 
a Christman was the greatest desire of his life. 
He had spent long hours in prayer with that in 
view. Could it be possible that there was a 
significance in the name that he had failed to 
apprehend, and that his efforts had been in vain. 
No, that could not be, for the results of the 
past few weeks had been a testimony of God’s 
approval, and he began to justify himself. 

‘'Mrs. Hartwell,” he said, “God knows that 
I have but one desire in life, to possess Jesus 
Christ in all his fulness and power. If that will 
not make me a Christman, I do not know what 
will.” 

“You do not understand your own heart, 
Mr. Osborn,” she returned. “I know that you 
will not object to my prayers, so I will continue 
to ask God to make all things clear to you. 
Some day the Holy Spirit will cause you to see 
that, instead of wanting Jesus Christ su- 
premely, you want him and some added bless- 


132 


THE CHRISTMAN 


ing. You may call it peace, power, endow- 
ment, or whatever else you please ; it is always 
the Lord and something more. Be sure of 
this: the Master will not manifest Himself 
gloriously to any Christian who is not satisfied 
with Him and Him alone, the all inclusive One. 
You may persuade yourself that you want to 
possess Christ; but be assured He wants to 
possess you. His fulness is all that you need.’’ 

Mr. Osborn hung his head. He felt that she 
had spoken in Christian affection, and from the 
highest and holiest motives, yet his pride of 
opinion had been touched, and his most hal- 
lowed purpose adjudged imperfect, and it irri- 
tated him. 

Any evidence of resentment would be un- 
kind, so he assured her that, while he could not 
understand her views, he was grateful for her 
prayers. 

Leaving the room, he went directly to the 
church. It was very late, but some of the peo- 
ple remained about the doors. After a few mo- 
ments of conversation. Elder Root slipped his 
hand in Osborn’s arm, and said, ‘‘Let me walk 
home with you, there is something I want to 
talk about.” 


THE CHRISTMAN 


133 


'‘My dear Pastor/' he began, when they were 
well out of hearing, "please consider that I am 
an old man, and excuse me if I am over-solici- 
tous concerning your health. Quite a number 
of the people are growing anxious about the 
burden of work that you are bearing, and, in 
love and respect, they have asked me to speak 
to you about taking rest. Your mother tells 
me that you spend most of the hours that you 
are at home in your study ; and that you do not 
take time even for your meals. I know that 
she is apprehensive lest you should have a ner- 
vous break, and you know that is a very serious 
matter. No other minister in town is doing 
what you are doing. Now I want to ask you, 
not only on my own behalf, but also on behalf 
of many others, to promise me that you will 
absent yourself from the four o'clock Bible 
readings and spend the afternoons quietly. Mr. 
Hartwell, Mr. Treadwell, Mr. Hazzard, Mr. 
Clevering, Mr. Conover and I have all agreed 
to call whenever it is necessary under your di- 
rections if you will set aside every afternoon 
for absolute relaxation, on your bed or for ex- 
ercise in the open air." 

Mr. Osborn felt no inclination to lessen his 


134 


THE CHRISTMAN 


labors, but his respect for the wishes of his 
friends caused him to accede to the request, 
and he began reluctantly to plan for rest and 
recreation. 

After his noonday meal the next day he 
asked his mother to begin reading to him a 
story book that Mr. Rhyder had sent to the 
parsonage, and, throwing himself on the sofa, 
he prepared to listen, when the door bell rang. 

His caller was none other than Sam Runkle. 

‘'Well, Mr. Osborn,'’ said the liveryman, as 
he advanced to greet the minister, "how are 
you ? Heard that you wa-rn't goin' to meetin' 
to-day, so I jest druv rou-nd to see if I couldn't 
have the pleasure of yer company for a couple 
of hours, as I was agoin' to drive over to 
Cranston, an' back home by ther Dorchester 
road. I'm kind o' lo-anly, as yer may say, an' 
hankerin' after some one to talk to." 

Osborn laughed, and said : "Yes, Sam, I'll 
go with you. Father Root has put you up to 
this I know. I promised him I'd take a little 
rest and recreation, and a spin around by Dor- 
chester will do me good; besides I'll enjoy 
your company." 

The two men had no sooner started than Mr. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


135 


Osborn began talking about religious interest 
in the churches. His mind dwelt so exclusively 
on the revival that Sam was obliged to exert 
his utmost ingenuity to turn the conversation, 
and interest his companion in other subjects. 

The liveryman had just finished describing a 
hard drive that he once had over a mountain 
road when the minister remarked, “Sam, you 
don’t know how happy I felt when Hepburn 
asked for prayers last night. His family have 
been anxious for him a long time.” 

“I’ve often watched bosses try-in’ to pull 
loads of sile from excavations,” Sam replied. 
“The men hitch ’em tandem like, one afore an- 
other, so as to git more power, an’ the-n they 
begin to holler at ’em, an’ make the greatest 
hullaballo yer ever heard, a-rippin’ ther throats 
raw with yellin’ ; and ther bosses, they pu-11 an’ 
strain and don’t draw worth a cent. ’Cause 
why? Why, they ain’t strong enough. Then 
four or five or six of them ’ere fellers, that 
ought to ’ave done it first, grab the spokes of 
the wheels and help. After that the bosses 
don’t have a-ny trouble in doin’ what they were 
told. All they wanted was a start, an’ tha-t’.<5. 
the way it was with Hepburn an’ a lot of other 


136 


THE CHRISTMAN 


decent kind o’ folk. Hollerin’ at ’em about be- 
in’ religious don’t do any good ; they try them- 
selves hard enough to pull up hill, but the lo-ad 
of habit, as yer may say, is to-o heavy for ’em. 
What they need is a helpin’ hand to give ’em a 
start, an’ tha-t’s just what ther meetin’s are do- 
in’. They stir up us old professas, that’s been 
a hollerin’ ‘git up there, git up,’ and make us 
take hold of the spokes. Speakin’ of siles,” 
Sam went on, “it do-ant seem to me that most 
folks can tell the difference between one kind 
an’ another. Farmers that I know can’t git 
any crops out of ther land worth mentionin’, 
’cause why? ’Cause they pla-nt clay things in 
sand sile, an’ sand things in clay sile.” 

This observation furnished an excuse for ex- 
tended remarks on the cultivation of the soil, 
and he went off into a dissertation on land and 
the secret of profitable crops. 

In a few moments, Mr. Osborn referred to 
some man who would have nothing whatever 
to do with the services at the churches, re- 
maining away, and criticising all that was done. 

“It’s na-ter,” said Sam. “You ca-n’t go agin 
nater. When it begins to rain, some folks 
turns up ther coat collars, je-st as though they 


THE CHRISTMAN 


137 


was sayin’, ‘I kin stand it if you kin.’ Others, 
they hunch up ther shoulders, an’ go along 
\ slow, smilin’ at every one, as though they 
thought the drops wa-rn’t thar at all, scoffin’ at 
the idee, an’ sayin’, ‘It’s a-11 imagination.’ Oth- 
ers the-y try to run away from what’s cornin’ 
down, or walk awful fast so as to git under 
cover, je-st as though they was made of thin 
jellytin or somethin’ of that sort, an’ sayin’ as 
plain as can be, ‘Them showers of blessin’ may 
be mi-ghty good, but I ain’t got time to stop.’ 
Others the-y shove up umberells an’ put on like 
they don’t care, walkin’ along superiah over 
those as is gettin’ wet, and remarkin’ to them- 
selves, ‘I’m used to this sort of a thing, an’ can 
git along all right.’ Now, there’s Rob Crouch. 
No-o! I won’t jidge lest I be jidged. I’ll call 
his name Smith, so as it won’t be jidging Rob. 
He says it’s all fanaticism, an’ perhaps he’s 
right. I heard a school teacher onst say that 
originally a fanatic was a man what belonged 
to a temple, an’ not like other folks who lived 
in mud huts. That je-st reminds me, there’s a 
stretch of mud land round the next turn in the 
road. It used to be covered with ice in winter, 
an’ we boys skated on it. I wonder how it is 


138 


THE CHRISTMAN 


now. Was you much of a skater when yer was 
a kid?’’ 

The minister answered the question, assuring 
his friend that he was still skilled in the art, and 
then went on to speak in glowing terms of the 
spirit of Christian fellowship that existed 
among the churches and declared that if the 
revival had done nothing else, it had brought 
the churches together. 

‘T was in Johnson’s bakery last week,” said 
Sam in reply, ‘‘an’ while I was a standin’ thar, 
waitin’ to git a chance to speak to Johnson, in 
came a woman what wa-nted a loaf of bread. 
She was mighty particler to have a lo-ng loaf. 
Said that ther was more in it for the money. 
Well, afore he’d done wrapping up the long 
loaf in came a boy, an’ tagged up to the coun- 
ter with a nickel, sayin’ as he was in a mighty 
hurry, an’ his ma wanted a rou-nd loaf. Then 
a young gal bought some cake an’ stuff, an’ 
asked for a squar loaf. A man who was stand- 
in’ alongside of me, wa-itin’ for a chance, 
laughed when he heard the gal ask for a squar 
loaf, an’ said: ‘They don’t know nothing. I 
could give ’em a pint or two. My wife’s going 
to have company, an’ I’m after a bra-ided loaf. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


139 


It cuts round and looks nicer on the table than 
any other kind.’ Well, after he got his braided 
loaf an’ went out, a fat woman came a puff-in’ 
up to the counter, and asked for a pie and some 
jumbles an’ a loaf of bread. I was kind o’ in- 
terested to know which she thought was the 
best, when Johnson says, "There, Mrs. Sconnce, 
I belee-ve you always buy a deep loaf.’ Then 
a boy opened the door an’ hollers out, "Twist 
loaf, please.’ We-11 that’s awful funny, I said 
to myself, fer I couldn’t see why folks didn’t 
find out after a while which was the best and 
git that. Then I thought of our churches, an’ 
I says to Johnson, "Johnson, I got some new 
names for them ’ere loaves of yourn.’ 

""Well, that kind o’ stumped him, and he 
wanted to know what names I’d give, so I says : 
"The lo-ng loaves is Lutheran, ’cause they go 
back to the Reformation, an’ the rou-nd ones is 
Methodist, ’cause they’re governed by a crust 
that goes all the way round and takes in the 
who-le thing and everybody; an’ the squar 
ones is Presbyterian, ’cause they’re so stiff an’ 
straight, with a slice fer ev-ry poor soul, no 
matter which way yer turn ’em, an’ the bra-ided 
ones are ’Piscopal ’cause they look so nice an’ 


140 


THE CHRISTMAN 


trim, fine for company an’ a-11 that; an’ the 
deep ones is Baptist, ’cause they believe in goin’ 
down inter the water; an’ the twist ones is — 
well, ther’s only one church that that kind 
would fit, an’ it’s the Congregational, an’ seein’ 
my mother was a Congregationalist I says, 
‘Johnson, here’s a nickel, an’ I want a regler 
old Congregationalist twist, no other kind will 
do fer me.’ 

“Well, how he did laugh, yer’d ’ave thought 
he’d split his sides, an’ he says: ‘Namin’ ’em 
don’t alter’ em. The fact is, Sam, I’ll be hon- 
est, an’ tell yer the truth, them ’ere loaves all 
came out of the same batch of dough. The 
difference is only in what folks is brought up 
on, an’ what ther used to eatin’.” 

“We-11, when I heard that I was so dum- 
founded that I said, ‘Johnson, yer a cheat an’ 
a fraud.’ Then I took it all back, an’ ’pologized, 
’cause I remembered the ’Postle said that we 
bein’ many ’er o-ne bread, fer we-’re all par- 
takers of that one bread, which was Jesus. 

“I tell yer, preacher, there’s secrets an’ les- 
sons in every business. I ne-ver thought I’d get 
one in a bake shop, but thar it was sure as a ker- 
nel in a nut. I remember ye-ars ago I thought 


THE CHRISTMAN 


141 


of bein’ a baker myself. It was just this way.” 
Then Sam went off into an account of how his 
father thought of making him an apprentice 
to a baker. 

When Osborn reached home, he felt invig- 
orated and hungry, and spent the meal time in 
recounting to his mother Sam’s remarks. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


142 


CHAPTER XL 
sch^m:ES and scH:eMiNG. 

The next morning Mr. Osborn was disturbed 
in his work by a knock on the study door. Re- 
sponding to the summons, his mother presented 
him with a card and told him that an old man 
was waiting in the parlor to see him. Looking 
at the card, he read,/'Ormand Truesdale, New- 
kirk City.’’ The name was not familiar and he 
turned the card over to see if any message was 
written on the other side, but nothing was there 
to indicate the caller’s business, so he hastily 
changed his coat and went downstairs. 

As he entered the parlor a man advanced in 
years and trembling with palsy arose and 
stepped forward to meet him. He was some- 
what above medium height, but looked short, 
on account of a stoop in his shoulders. He 
stroked his long white beard and turned two 
piercing eyes on the minister. Some men look 


THE CHRISTMAN 


143 


only at that which is without the veil, others see 
through the texture. This man’s vision was 
penetrating. 

‘"I believe that I have never met you before,” 
Mr. Osborn remarked, as he extended his hand. 

The man grasped the proffered hand and held 
it without speaking, but continued to gaze into 
the minister’s face. 

“Won’t you sit down?” Mr. Osborn asked, 
as he glanced toward an easy seat. 

The stooping patriarch did not reply, nor 
move his riveted expression, but remained 
standing, and, tightening his bony fingers, 
communicated a distinct tremor to the minis- 
ter’s arm. 

At last, speaking very slowly, he said : “I be- 
lieve you are worthy, my son. My name is 
Truesdale, Ormand Truesdale. May I have the 
privilege of a private conversation. I have 
something to say, but I will not detain you 
long.” 

The minister shut the door and the man sat 
down. 

“Mr. Osborn,” began Mr. Truesdale, as he 
bent over and stroked his beard again, “my er- 
rand this morning is not pleasant, but it is 


144 


THE CHRISTMAN 


necessary, and I must ask you to hold it as 
strictly confidential. I have heard excellent re- 
ports of you and your work, and my own ob- 
servation confirms such reports. I would not 
speak disparagingly of my fellow-men without 
just cause, for I despise gabblers and gossips. 
Every man has his faults, and it’s easy enough 
to point them out, but when one man seeks to 
strike another in the dark, it is my duty to 
warn him. You are doubtless acquainted with 

a man by the name of . Perhaps it 

would be just as well not to mention names. He 
calls himself a private banker or money lender. 
A short, thick-set man, who has accustomed 
himself to address every minister as dominie, 
and every church member as brother or sister. 
I see by your countenance that you know to 
whom I refer. Beware of him. Some of his 
scheming has come to my knowledge, and you 
are concerned in it. I have traveled all the way 
from home to put you on your guard.” 

Mr. Osborn made no reply, and the old man 
continued, still fixing his gaze on the minister’s 
face : ‘Well, this certain private banker is your 
enemy, and has contrived a plot by which he 
hopes to turn you out of your church, and put 


THE CHRISTMAN 


145 


a puppet of his in your place, a man whom he 
can use. I have heard, through an acquaintance 
of the minister who has been selected by this 
money lender to steal your pulpit, that he in- 
tends to ask the church over which you preside 
to give you a long vacation because of the ar- 
duous labors that you have been called to per- 
form. Knowing the affection in which you are 
held, he believes that he will have no difficulty 
in securing the concession. Three or four 
months, I believe, is the time that he proposes 
to ask for you. Then his plan is to have them 
invite his henchman to supply the pulpit during 
your absence. My informant tells me that this 
henchman is making all his arrangements to 
come to Rutherford, with the distinct purpose 
of ingratiating himself into the good graces of 
the people, crowding you out and securing the 
pastorate. The private banker has written to a 
number of leading clergymen in the denomina- 
tion, asking for recommendations for his man, 
so that he can present them to the officers of the 
church. When I heard what was planned, I 
came right on to see you. Reaching town last 
evening, I learned that the money lender was 
talking very freely about the splendid service 


146 


THE CHRISTMAN 


that you are rendering, and how disgraceful 
it would be if your people did not show their 
appreciation by giving you a long vacation, so I 
saw that he had begun to work his scheme. 
Now that I have put you on your guard, I will 
go home.’’ 

Rising, he took Mr. Osborn’s hand again and 
held it while he looked steadily in his face. 

‘‘There’s a young minister living in Newkirk 
City by the name of Scantlebecker,” he added ; 
“I just mention the name, that’s all. You may 
hear it again some time.” 

Mr. Osborn thanked Mr. Truesdale for his 
interest and warning, and assured him that he 
would not forget what had been said. 

“By the way,” remarked the old man, as he 
passed out the front door, “may I ask whether 
there is a young lawyer living in Rutherford by 
the name of Bowman, Oswald Bowman?” 

On being assured that there was, he asked 
again, “Is he paying particular attention to any 
young woman ?” 

Mr. Osborn was greatly surprised at the 
question, and told him of Mr. Bowman’s en- 
gagement to Miss Clevering, whereupon Mr. 
Truesdale shook his head and said in a low 


THE CHRISTMAN 


147 


voice: '‘Clevering, Clevering; yes, that’s the 
name; more scheming. I suspected as much. 
I shall have to examine my papers when I get 
back and see what my duty is in that direction. 
Good-morning; I thank you for listening to 
me.” 

The call and communication greatly agitated 
the young minister, not so much because of the 
danger that threatened him, but because of the 
reference that had been made to Mr. Bowman’s 
engagement. The old man’s intimation that the 
lawyer’s betrothal was an evidence of more 
scheming was ominous, and he feared that Miss 
Clevering was being drawn on toward some 
terrible entanglement. 

When he returned to his room he found it 
impossible to study ; his mind was in a turmoil. 
The love that he bore for the girl again asserted 
itself ; the flames that had been smothered and 
that he thought were quenched, broke out anew 
with increased fury, and he paced backward 
and forward in great excitement. Every few 
moments he would give utterance to some ex- 
pression of love or fear. 

Suddenly he paused and exclaimed: '"What 
a fool I was not to have held on to the man and 


148 


THE CHRISTMAN 


demanded an explanation, but then he cannot 
have left town/' 

In an instant he descended to the first story 
and, grabbing his coat and hat, went out on the 
street in search of Mr. Truesdale. 

He had not gone a block before he met Mr. 
Crouch,who detained him to speak of the splen- 
did work that was being done, and to assure 
him of his sympathy and support; also to ex- 
press his conviction that it would be ungra- 
cious for the church to allow such devotion to 
go unrewarded, and that if some one else did 
not see that justice was done, he should him- 
self propose that an extended leave of absence 
be granted to the pastor. 

The money lender's cordiality and solicitude 
confirmed Mr. Osborn in the belief that Mr. 
Truesdale had spoken the truth, and he became 
more anxious to find the old man. 

Going from place to place, he inquired for 
the stranger, but it was in vain; he was no- 
where to be found. It was evident that he had 
taken the trolley cars to Cranston on leaving 
the parsonage, and was on his way home, so 
he gave up the search and determined to em- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


149 


brace the first opportunity that came to him, 
and go to Newkirk City for further inquiries. 

That evening Mr. Crouch was present at the 
preaching service ; it was the first time that he 
had heard the Evangelist; Mr. Gaddis was also 
there with his wife. He had sneered at re- 
ligion, laughed at Christians, ridiculed minis- 
ters, taunted his wife on her confession of 
faith, and condemned the churches for enter- 
ing into the special work of evangelization, but 
some one persuaded him to go and hear Mr. 
Hilton. The preacher's words interested him; 
he went again and again, and finally became 
deeply impressed. 

Sam Runkle came early and had ensconced 
himself in a corner at the back of the room. 

Before entering through the Sunday School 
room as was his custom, Mr. Osborn looked 
into the church. He saw the money lender and 
lifted a silent prayer to God that the preacher's 
message might reach his heart. Turning to go, 
he was met by Mr. and Mrs. Bubble. 

‘We're going to have fine weather," re- 
marked Mr. Bubble, as he grasped the minis- 
ter's hand. “These meetings are going to revo- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


150 

lutionize the town! I wouldn’t miss one of 
them for anything.” 

''Fine fiddlesticks!” returned Mrs. Bubble. 
"The weather is just vile. When I was a girl 
they’d call it muggy, but now I believe they 
say that there’s humility in the air, but it’s all 
the same ” 

"Speaking of when you were a girl,” broke 
in Mrs. Conover, who was just entering, "don’t 
you remember ” 

"Oh, Mrs. Bubble, Mrs. Conover,” ex- 
claimed Mrs. Crouch. "How glad I am to see 
you, and, Mr. Osborn, how do you do? These 
continued meetings night after night must wear 
on you terribly, and then the calling. Oh, my, 
I couldn’t keep it up as you do! I’m really 
afraid that you’ll have a break before you get 
through. You look all tired out. The church 
ought to see that you have a good rest. Don’t 
you say so, Mrs. Bubble, Mrs. Conover?” The 
women assented, and Mrs. Crouch, noticing 
her husband inside, hurriedly left them and 
went to her pew. 

"You remember, don’t you, Mrs. Bubble,” 
again began Mrs. Conover, "it was just such 
a day as this twenty years ago when ” 


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151 

‘‘Now don’t ask any of us to remember as 
long back as that,” laughed Mrs. Cherpin, com- 
ing forward and pulling her husband after her. 
“You know that we’re all sweet sixteens,” and 
she laughed again and added: “Whatever the 
weather was twenty years ago, it’s bad enough 
to-night. I don’t see why the people came out. 
I suppose it’s because we’re having a revival. 
When there’s a revival the air may be as stuffy 
as a pair of bellows, and the ministers as stu- 
pid as the men of Gotham, the crowd will turn 
out just the same.” 

“I didn’t intend to reflect on any one’s age,” 
said Mrs. Conover, “I merely wanted to ask 
Mrs. Bubble ” 

“Oh, excuse me, Mrs. Conover,” broke in 
Mrs. Bubble. “I just thought that I’d inquire 
of Mr. Cherpin how he likes his new motive — 
motive — motor car?” 

“He likes it very much,” Mrs. Cherpin an- 
swered for her husband. “But, oh, doesn’t it 
cost a song to keep it in repair! Mr. Watts 
told him that it would be expensive, but he 
wouldn’t believe it. Now he knows.” 

“That’s the way it always is,” returned Mrs. 
Bubble. “Buy a horse and it gets the blind 


15^ 


THE CHRISTMAN 


swa-swa-swaggers ; own a motive car and it's 
always at the garbage — no, that isn't the word, 
but never mind. 

^'Nonsense! Nonsense!" exclaimed Mr. 
Cherpin, as he looked at Mrs. Bubble with wide 
open eyes, and brought his glasses up to aid his 
vision. ‘‘My motor car is of very little ex- 
pense. Ha ! ha ! ha ! But have you heard what 
they say about an auto? It's great on splash- 
ing mud, gashing gammon, crashing laws and 
cashing the town treasury. Ha ! ha I ha ! pretty 
good ! pretty good I Come, Olive, let us go in, 
they're beginning to sing." 

“How I do love revival hymns!" remarked 
Mrs. Cherpin, as she followed her husband. 
“I'm as soft-hearted as a Scot about them. 
Isn't that one lovely?" 

The singing broke up the little group of talk- 
ers and Mr. Osborn left the church to enter 
again through the chapel. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


I S3 


CHAPTER XII. 

IN NAME OE THE HOEY TRINITY CUT AEE 

EOOSE. 

Every available seat in the church was filled, 
many people stood by the walls and about the 
doors. Hymn after hymn was sung with en- 
thusiasm and feeling. The gospel message set 
to music and the appeal of grace that was re- 
peated by the united voices of the singers 
thrilled the hearts of many and prepared the 
way for the sermon. 

When the time came for the Evangelist to 
preach, he arose and requested the people to 
bow their heads in silent prayer and ask for a 
special blessing on the words that should be 
spoken. Then he announced his text. It was 
found in the Gospel of Matthew, the seventh 
chapter, and the twenty-first verse. Speaking 
slowly and with a clear enunciation, he said : 

‘Tt is a terrible thing for a man to deceive 


154 


THE CHRISTMAN 


himself, and imagine that he is right with God, 
when the whole basis of his character is false. 
God is not to be trifled with. The house that 
is built on the sand may look as fair as the 
house that is built on the rock, but the rain will 
descend, the floods will come, and the winds 
will blow and beat upon it, and it will fall.’’ 

Pausing, he pointed toward a row of young 
men who occupied a side pew and asked: 

Young men, on what are you building?” 

Sweeping his hand over the audience, he 
repeated the question, enumerating some of the 
false principles on which people relied for sal- 
vation, and declared with emphasis that a 
mere assent of the mind to the doctrines of 
Christianity or the punctilious observance of 
churchly rites and obligations were not suffi- 
cient to meet the demands of God. Then he 
drew a word picture of the Judgment Day with 
the assembled multitudes of earth, and de- 
scribed the appearance of different men as they 
drew near the great White Throne to render 
their account. 

‘Tn that day,” he declared, ^‘there will be 
ministers of the gospel and rescue workers, 
who will plead that they preached in Christ’s 


THE CHRISTMAN 


155 


name ; there will be church officers and Sunday 
school teachers who will say that they cast out 
devils in Christ’s name, and there will be evan- 
gelists and missionaries who will assert that 
they performed wonderful works in Christ’s 
name, and the Judge will answer and say to 
them, T never knew you, depart from me, ye 
workers of iniquity.’ If then some whom we 
now regard as chosen of the Lord will be cast 
out of His presence, where will the ungodly 
and sinner appear?” 

For nearly a half hour he dwelt on the 
call of God to salvation, warned his hearers 
against delay, exhorted them to faith and obe- 
dience, and pleaded with them to become 
Christ’s disciples. With dramatic skill he told 
the congregation of some patriots of the Tyrol 
Mountains who, being informed that a hostile 
host was approaching, prepared themselves for 
the attack, piling great masses of rock and 
stone on the edge of the precipice beneath 
which the invading army was expected to pass. 
Then he described the appearance of these 
mountaineers hiding behind their breastworks, 
silently watching for the enemy and waiting for 
a signal from their general to cast the accu- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


156 

mulated materials that they had gathered on 
their foe. 

Having thus told of the danger and efforts 
of the patriots, he went on to describe the in- 
vading army marching forward in glittering 
armor with flying banners and confident tread, 
all unconscious of their doom. 

Pointing toward one of the large windows, 
and turning his head as though he saw the sol- 
diers outside, he called out : 

^‘There they come! — See! — There they 
come ! — They are getting nearer and nearer ! — 
Now they are entering the dark defile! — The 
silence that lies about them is terrible. The 
shadows that enshroud their path are deep and 
ominous. They heed not the warning, but 
march right on.” 

When he had wrought the congregation up 
to the highest pitch of interest and excitement 
he paused and looked up at the ceiling. His 
whole attitude and expression seemed to indi- 
cate that he saw the very edge of the precipice 
ribbed with rocks and stones. Then he gazed 
toward the window again and up at the ceiling. 
His attention was so fixed on the besieged and 


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157 


the besiegers of his imagination that he became 
oblivious to all else. 

Suddenly he caught his breath and cried: 

‘‘Up on yonder height, I hear a ringing voice. 
The patriot general is calling to his men, ‘In 
the name of the Holy Trinity, cut all loose — cut 
all loose !' ’’ 

The result was instantaneous and thrilling. 
Men trembled. Some bowed their heads in 
fear, as though shrinking from an avalanche 
of stones. On every hand could be heard the 
yoice of ejaculatory prayer. 

Before the congregation could recover itself, 
the preacher spread out his arms and ex- 
claimed: “There are many here to-night who 
are marching on toward the defile of death, all 
unconscious of their doom. Soon the day of 
probation will end, soon a voice from the Eter- 
nal Throne will utter the awful words, ‘In the 
name of the Holy Trinity, cut all loose,’ and 
the consequences of your evil doings, now held 
back by the mercy of God, will fall in one great 
avalanche of woe. Now is the accepted time, 
now is the day of salvation. Turn ye! Turn 
ye! For why will ye die?” 

When the invitation was given for inquirers 


158 


THE CHRISTMAN 


to come forward, there was a general response 
from all parts of the room. 

Mr. Gaddis, who sat grasping the seat in 
front and looking at the evangelist with intense 
interest and emotion, left his seat at once, and 
went down the aisle, followed by his wife, who 
was weeping in excitement and joy. As he 
passed the pew occupied by Mr. Crouch, he 
heard his old friend utter the word ‘‘fool.’’ 
Turning, he answered in a loud voice, “You 
won’t say fool, Rob, when all’s cut loose, I tell 
you that.” 

Unsatisfied with the result of his sermon, 
the evangelist continued to dwell on the dan- 
ger of delay, while he urged the impenitent to 
come forward. So skillfully did he follow his 
severest denunciations of sin with tender ap- 
peals, his pictures of impending wrath with an- 
nouncements of mercy, and his declarations of 
divine justice with assurances of Christ’s com- 
passion, that strong men, who had braced 
themselves against his influence, yielded to his 
call; weeping women bowed their hearts in 
submission, and children trembled as before 
some unknown terror. An awful sense of 
God’s presence, and a solemn stillness, broken 


THE CHRISTMAN 


159 


only by the voice of the preacher, and the in- 
voluntary responses and sobs of convicted 
souls, pervaded the place. 

Ruth Clevering sat with two or three of her 
schoolmates about half way down the aisle. 
Her eyes had been riveted on the preacher 
from the beginning of his sermon. Not a word 
had escaped her. As he advanced with his ar- 
gument, her little form became rigid and her 
lips pressed together. Those sitting near saw 
that a struggle was going on within her soul. 

At last the evangelist leaned over the desk 
and said : ‘^All men who know about the Christ 
expect to be converted before they die. No one 
intends to be lost, but many, very many, put 
off their decision until it is too late. I have 
preached to thousands of wavering men and 
women, but I have never met one who ex- 
pected to go before the judgment seat unsaved, 
yet in the spirit of procrastination multitudes 
refuse to accept at once the offers of divine 
mercy, and wait, as did Felix of old, for a 
more convenient season. Thus, refusing and 
hoping, refusing and hoping, they live on until 
the day of opportunity has passed and the cry 


i6o 


THE CHRISTMAN 


goes forth, Tn the name of the Holy Trinity, 
cut all loose.’ 

‘‘Now, in God’s house, at this solemn mo- 
ment, I want to ask again. Is there one who 
can’ say, after serious thought and prayer, with 
a clear vision of a final reckoning, ‘I have de- 
liberately chosen the path that leads to ever- 
lasting destruction and shall walk therein until 
death overtakes me. I never expect to enter 
Heaven ; I never expect to see again my sainted 
father or mother, son or daughter; my eyes 
shall never behold the King in His beauty. 
Never, never, never. Now and forever I ac- 
cept the sentence that is reserved for me, ‘De- 
part, depart, ye cursed, into everlasting punish- 
ment!’ ” 

He paused, as if for an answer. A shudder 
went through the congregation. “Is there one, 
one?” he asked. “No, not one. I knew it 
would be so.” 

Just at that moment there was a stir in the 
middle of the church ; people turned and looked 
toward the pew in which Ruth Clevering sat. 
She had risen to her feet; her little hands 
grasped the back of the seat in front and held 
it rigidly; her face was white and quivering 


THE CHRISTMAN 


i6i 


with excitement; her lips were drawn in; her 
legs trembled. With an unnatural, intense ex- 
pression, she gazed at the evangelist. 

Some one took hold of her dress, and tried 
to pull her down, but she refused to move. Her 
father was not present, but her sister, who was 
on the platform with the singers, looked at her 
in surprise and consternation. 

Mr. Osborn at once rose to his feet and said : 
‘‘Ruth, I think that you did not catch the mean- 
ing of Mr. Hilton's words. He only asked 
those to rise who never expected to become 
Christians and go to heaven. I am sure that 
you love Jesus and are trying to serve him." 

She turned at once and looked at him with 
the same fixed expression. “Mr. Osborn," she 
replied, “I perfectly understood what was 
said." 

Pushing herself into the aisle, she paused, 
and fastening her eyes first on her pastor, then 
on the evangelist, and then on her sister, she 
said, in a clear, solemn tone of voice, so loud 
that all might hear : 

“Pm going to hell — straight to hell — to hell. 
Amen." 


THE CHRISTMAN 


162 

Then she threw back her head defiantly and 
walked out of the church. 

On reaching the street she fled to her home 
and her room. Fastening the door, she flung 
herself on the bed. There she gave way to 
heavy sobs, that shook her whole frame, and 
caused her body to heave, as with some intense 
emotion. 

When Ruth had left the church, the evan- 
gelist called on Mr. Osborn, asking him to pray 
for the child, which he did, tenderly pleading 
with God that the faith that she had long 
shown in her life might be speedily followed 
by assurance of hope. While he was praying, 
Miss Clevering left the room and followed her 
sister. 

Knocking at Ruth’s door, she waited, but no 
response was heard, save the low moaning and 
sobbing of one in agony of grief. 

Again and again she knocked and called, but 
received no reply. Then she drew up a hassock 
and sat close to the door. 

‘‘Ruth,” she said, “sister is very anxious to 
see you, and help you, and she’ll stay right here 
until you want her.” Then she leaned her 
head on her hand and was quiet for a long 


THE CHRISTMAN 


163 

time, listening to the sobbing and moaning 
within. 

Finally she heard her sister move toward the 
door. There was delay, as if from hesitancy, 
and the key was turned, and Ruth flung herself 
in Maud’s arms and burst out in another 
paroxysm of weeping. 

‘'Oh, Maud! Maud!” she cried between her 
sobs, ‘T wish mamma were living ; she’d under- 
stand me. No one else does. Oh, what shall I 
do, what shall I do? They’ll all think that I’m 
a brute, a heathen. I had to, I just had to say 
it. It wouldn’t ’ave been honest not to. He 
asked us all out loud. Oh, dear; oh, dear; it 
was just awful!” 

"Sister,” Maud returned, as she drew the 
child closer to her heart, "you needn’t mind 
what people say if only you are sure that you 
are doing right, and pleasing God. But you 
must have misunderstood Mr. Hilton’s ques- 
tion. You surely love Jesus, you have often, 
said so, and you cannot expect that you will be 
finally lost?” 

"Yes, I do!” she answered, almost fiercely. 
"I’ve been thinking about it ever since he 
started the meetings, and I’ve read the Bible, 


164 


THE CHRISTMAN 


and asked God to save my soul, but it isn't any 
use; he won't do it. I'm just the same as I al- 
ways was, and don't have any of that peace 
that the others talk about. Last night I wrote 
it all down in my diary, and I'll stick to it, I 
will.” Then she took the diary from the 
drawer of the dresser, and handed it to her 
sister. 

Maud turned the leaves until she came to the 
place and read : 

‘T know that I'm bad, but I can’t help it. 
I’ve tried to be good, but it isn’t any use. I've 
got a crooked heart and it can't be straight- 
ened, and I won't be a hypocrite and say that 
I’m a Christian when I'm not, and I won't join 
the church for any one. So if I'm lost. I'm lost, 
and that's the end of it. I don't mean to worry 
about it any more than I can help, for what’s 
the use. There's a God and I know it, but He 
won’t save me. ‘ I'm going to read the Bible 
every day and find out what's right to do, 
and I'm going to trust Jesus and pray to him 
so long as I live, and try and get other people 
to trust him too. If I can’t be a Christian and 
go to heaven, there is no reason why I 
shouldn't do all I can to help others to be 


THE CHRISTMAN 


165 


Christians and go to heaven. Then, at least, 
when Tm lost. Til have the satisfaction of 
knowing that it wasn’t my fault. Amen.” 

The tears came to Maud’s eyes as she read, 
but the tears were tears of sympathy and joy, 
for she saw that her sister’s certificate of de- 
spair was in reality a record of dedication, and 
she threw her arms about her and kissed her, 
as she said : 

‘T am so glad, dearest, that you wrote it all 
down so clearly. I know that you mean what 
you have said in the diary. Now go to bed 
and don’t think anything more about the meet- 
ing. Maud will come in and sleep with you. 
Some day you’ll find that the path you have 
taken doesn’t lead to the place you think it 
does.” 

Ruth attended no more of the revival serv- 
ices. For a long time she wore a fixed expres- 
sion as she went about the house or associated 
with her friends. Few people questioned her 
on her testimony in the church that evening. 
As time passed her face relaxed, and her fea- 
tures assumed a more restful appearance. A 
quiet smile played about her mouth, and a new 
light shone in her eyes. All the turmoil that 


THE CHRISTMAN 


1 66 

stirred in her soul passed away and a continued 
satisfaction and joyousness took its place, and 
she began to wonder whether she had not be- 
come a Christian without knowing it. Long 
afterwards she said, ‘‘I learned, when a child, 
that Christianity is not found in grasping for 
evidences, but by quietly depending on Jesus 
Christ as a personal Saviour and Friend.’’ 


THE CHRISTMAN 


167 


CHAPTER XHI. 

STRtl^T PREACHING. 

When Mr. Hilton had finished his labors in 
Rutherford, Mr. Osborn was urged by the 
church officers to take a vacation, but he de- 
clined because of the new converts, who, he 
said, needed his pastoral oversight. Then they 
promised to employ some one to take full 
charge of the work during his absence. A 
young clergyman by the name of Scantle- 
becker, they informed him, had been com- 
mended on account of his piety and zeal, and 
they would secure him to preach, and look after 
those who had recently confessed Christ. 

This assurance only made him more deter- 
mined to remain at home, and his friends, not 
understanding the reason of his persistent re- 
fusal, left him in perplexity and grief. 

When Mr. Crouch heard of the minister’s 
resolution, he was very angry, and went at 


THE CHRISTMAN 


1 68 

once to the livery stable, that he might ex- 
press his indignation to Sam Runkle and who- 
ever else might be there. 

‘^That dominie of ours,’’ he declared, as he 
entered the door, ‘‘is as obstinate as a mule. 
He’s all broken down with overwork, and as 
nervous as a straw in the wind, but he refuses 
to relinquish his pulpit for a single Sunday. 
The officers of the church have promised to 
furnish a good supply during his absence if he 
will go away and rest, but he won’t. It’s a 
pretty state of affairs when a dominie sets him- 
self up to defy the wishes of those who give 
him his bread and butter, and tells them that 
he will do just as he pleases. If I had my way. 
I’d teach him who was boss.” 

“Who-’s this Scantlebecker that I hear so 
much about?” Sam drawled, without looking 
up. 

“Who is he?” returned Mr. Crouch, with 
increased indignation. “Well, I’ll tell you who 
he is. He’s an all right fellow from Newkirk 
City. The Committee got a dozen or more let- 
ters concerning him, and they all speak in the 
highest terms of his ability. It isn’t often that 
a church has a chance of securing a first-class 


THE CHRISTMAN 


169 


minister for a short time at reasonable rates; 
one who has had experience, and all that sort 
of thing, and who will take care of the new 
converts as well as the pulpit.” 

‘‘Do you kno-w ’im personally, Rob?” the 
liveryman inquired. 

“IVe met him several times,” Mr. Crouch 
returned. “Yes, I think that I can honestly 
say that I know him, and, more than that, that 
I have a very high regard for him. It may 
seem presumptuous in me to call him a friend, 
but I’m proud of the fact that I have at least 
made his acquaintance. Under the circum- 
stances, you can see for yourself that the domi- 
nie’s pigheadedness is nothing more nor less 
than a personal insult to me.” | 

Sam shut one eye, looked at his caller with 
the other for an instant, and then returned to 
his work, but began talking to himself. “We-11, 
well, well, I de-clare to Josie,” he said, “if it 
isn’t the strangest thing that I ever heard. Rob 
Crouch on familiar terms with a saint. I’ve 
heard how he makes it known that that New- 
kirk City preacher is second cousin to the An- 
gel Gabriel. H-e ought to know, yes, he ought 
to know, seein’ he presumes on his friendship; 


170 


THE CHRISTMAN 


but what puzzles me, is how he ev-er got so 
heavenly-minded as to be pussenly attached to 
any celestial creeter.’’ 

Glancing at Mr. Crouch, he suddenly asked : 
‘‘Rob, what yer got up yer sleeve? Take ofif 
yer coat an’ let’s see.” 

“Nothing! absolutely nothing, but the good 
of the church,” the money lender replied, with 
considerable warmth. Sam’s soliloquy and 
question increased his anger. Why was it that 
this man always suspected his motives and mis- 
trusted his honesty? Up his sleeve! He re- 
sented the imputation, and without a word of 
farewell, he turned on his heel and walked out 
of the stable. 

Sam’s suspicion, that the money lender had 
some ulterior object in urging Mr. Osborn’s 
departure, and Mr. Scantlebecker’s engage- 
ment, soon took possession of others, so that 
the people began to feel that perhaps the min- 
ister might be right, and that it would be wise 
to defer his vacation until the regular period 
of summer’s rest. In the meantime they met, 
and, in testimony of their love and confidence, 
voted to increase his salary. 

While thankful for this mark of esteem, Mr. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


171 


Osborn was not satisfied. He felt that Mr. 
Crouch and a few over whom the banker had 
an influence were his secret and relentless ene- 
mies, and would, if they could, accomplish 
his downfall; and he made up his mind to go 
at once to Newkirk City and find out, not only 
about Mr. Bowman and his relation to Miss 
Clevering, but also about the character and 
standing of Mr. Scantlebecker. 

Therefore, arranging his affairs so as to be 
away from home several days, he left Ruther- 
ford. 

On reaching Newkirk City he inquired for 
Mr. Ormand Truesdale, and learned that the 
old man had been for many years a respected 
lawyer in the place, but on returning from a 
trip to Cranston a short time before, he had 
been taken seriously ill and in a few days had 
died. 

The news disappointed him greatly, for he 
had relied on seeing Mr. Truesdale again, and 
hearing from him the history of the two men. 

He had no trouble in learning about Mr. 
Scantlebecker, who was well known in the 
community, and regarded by every one as a 
man of unusual native ability, but possessed 


THE CHRISTMAN 


172 

of a badly balanced mind and thoroughly in- 
sincere. It was commonly reported that he had 
fomented quarrels in every church that he had 
served, and was not a settled pastor because of 
his untrustworthiness. 

While the trip did not yield Mr. Osborn all 
the information that he desired, he yet felt 
that it was not in vain. 

Stopping at Cranston on his return, he went 
to see a clerical friend for the purpose of ar- 
ranging a pulpit exchange. The crowds that 
he passed on the street filled him with concern. 
Revival experiences had stirred his soul with 
compassion for men, and he tried to think of 
some way by which he could help the multi- 
tudes and interest his church in their behalf. 
Reaching his friend's house, he completed the 
business that called him there, and then asked 
what the Christian people of Cranston were 
doing for the masses that thronged the city 
thoroughfares. 

‘‘Nothing!" was the reply; “absolutely noth- 
ing but the holding of open-air services Sunday 
afternoons. We have established a number of 
preaching stations and engaged singers from 
the different churches. We ministers take 


THE CHRISTMAN 


173 


turns in presenting the gospel to the crowds in 
the best way we can. So far, we have had no 
marked results. Won’t you join us? I can’t 
offer you much encouragement, except the 
consciousness that you will be doing the Mas- 
ter’s work. Cranston is easily reached by trol- 
ley, and we would all be glad to have you in our 
circle of laborers.” 

Mr. Osborn readily assented to the request, 
and promised to begin the following week. 

The station assigned to him was a street cor- 
ner in one of the most disreputable and danger- 
ous tenement sections of the city, that was 
known as ‘‘The Dumps.” 

Seeking out the place, he presented himself 
the next Sabbath afternoon, prepared to speak. 

With the opening hymn the crowds gath- 
ered. The common people love music, and 
are moved by it to heed the Gospel message. 
When prayer was offered a few rough, low- 
browed men, standing in front, looked at the 
minister and then uncovered their heads in 
reverence. 

He had never been seen on that corner and 
the curiosity of the people was excited. They 
would know what he was like, and were ready 


^74 


THE CHRISTMAN 


to sneer at his message, or grant him considera- 
tion. 

There was more singing, then he stepped up 
on a soap box that had been provided and be- 
gan his address. Having had no experience in 
open-air speaking, he sought to gain attention 
by straining his voice. With nervous energy, 
loud utterance and rapid enunciation, he told 
the story of sin and salvation, with great earn- 
estness and simplicity, taxing his strength to 
the uttermost. In a few moments he wearied. 
His audience became indifferent to his words; 
some one on the outskirts began to converse in 
loud tones, and the children grew noisy. A 
young man shouted, ‘‘Ring off, and give the 
singers a chance.’’ 

The call created a ripple of laughter, which 
annoyed Mr. Osborn, and intensified his desire 
to gain attention. Raising his voice, he fairly 
shouted his message, gesticulating vigorously. 
A boy ran close in front of him and kicked the 
box on which he stood. There was another 
ripple of laughter, with a few words of pro- 
test. 

Then some one from behind remarked to an- 
other, with a sneer : “Oh, he’s only one of those 


THE CHRISTMAN 


175 


gospel sharks. The Christman who cut loose 
last Sunday beat him all holler.’’ 

Turning quickly, he saw two swarthy faces 
staring at him. The next instant he felt a blow 
on the side of his head. It came with a sud- 
denness and severity that stunned him. A 
broken brick had been hurled from the outer 
edge of the crowd. 

With a cry of pain, he lifted his hand to his 
face, and then, swaying a moment, fell ofif the 
box and was caught by one of the singers. 

The assault created a wild tumult. Men, 
women and children pressed forward, jamming 
one another, and gathering about the prostrate 
form of the unconscious minister. Some 
asked questions, others gave advice, still others 
denounced the assailant and swore at those who 
were pushing from behind, or peering over 
their shoulders with morbid interest and curi- 
osity. 

The man who had caught Mr. Osborn as he 
fell sat on the curbstone and wiped the blood 
from the minister’s face, and at the same time 
called to those about him to go for a physician 
at once. 

The low-browed men who had lifted their 


176 


THE CHRISTMAN 


hats during prayer held back the crowds the 
best that they could, and exhorted them to give 
the injured preacher more air. 

The news of the assault spread with light- 
ning speed to every nook and corner of the 
locality. People began to pour out of the 
streets, lanes, alleys and courts as by one im- 
pulse, and rush toward the spot, pushing one 
another, in a blind desire to see the man who 
had been knocked down. The pressure soon 
became so great that women and children, 
crushed and injured, screamed for help. 

Then several policemen appeared on the 
scene and wedged their way through the jam 
with their clubs. An ambulance was called, 
and Mr. Osborn was taken to the hospital. 

Among the crowd of boys that gathered was 
Jack Hotten. He had satisfied his hunger that 
morning from the waste food that had been 
thrown away by the servants of the rich, and 
was on his way home with some slices of bread 
and a half -decayed banana that he had taken 
from a garbage receptacle and that he con- 
cealed under his ragged jacket for his evening 
meal. 

As he neared the corner, he saw that the 


THE CHRISTMAN 


177 


people were unusually excited, and he ran for- 
ward to ascertain the cause, but was too late, 
as the ambulance had carried away its burden, 
so he sauntered on. Hiding his bread and 
banana, he went off to play with his compan- 
ions. 

Late that night he crept into the court where 
his father lived, and climbed the rickety stairs 
of one of the filthiest tenements. Nearing the 
room that he called home, he tiptoed along the 
passage, pausing every few moments to listen. 
He knew that, if his father was drunk, he 
would be cruelly treated, and he wanted to find 
out in time, so that he could retrace his steps 
and seek again the shelter of the streets. 

Hearing no sound from within, he came 
close to the door and called in a low voice, 
‘Xem! Lem! You there?’’ 

No reply being heard, he called louder. 
Lemuel, his older brother, was his only pro- 
tector against ill treatment, and, while he 
wanted to make him hear, he did not want to 
rouse his father. 

As his second call seemed to be unheeded, he 
turned away, and was about to descend the 
stairs, when the door opened a crack and Mr. 


178 


THE CHRISTMAN 


Hotten’s face peered through. It was white, 
and his sunken eyes glared as with fear. 

‘‘Jack/’ he said in a hollow whisper, “don’t 
speak loud, or make any noise, and don’t let 
any one know I’m here.” 

“What’s up. Dad?” the boy asked, trem- 
blingly, for his father’s face and voice be- 
trayed the presence of some great danger. 

“None of your business, you brat,” he 
growled. Then, remembering that he needed 
his son’s assistance, he added, in a coaxing 
whisper : 

“Say, Jack, I’m in an awful hole and don’t 
want the cops to find me. Can you keep your 
eyes pealed for your old dad and let him know 
if you see them? They’ll be trailing me in the 
court before long, and I’ll be run in. That’s a 
good boy, come now, put me on to them, so as 
I can get out the window and climb to the 
roof in time to sneak.” 

“What you done?” the boy asked. 

“Sh!” was his warning note, as he put his 
finger to his lips. “I hear some one,” but it 
was only the passing footsteps of another ten- 
ant. Waiting and listening, he heard the sound 


THE CHRISTMAN 


179 


die away on the pavement, then he whispered : 

let on, if you won’t squeal. I killed one 
of them ’ere preachers to-day. He was gab- 
bling to a crowd of us, and I flung a brick at 
him. It hit him in the mug and he croaked. 
I saw him go.” 

‘T kno\y’d you ain’t no good,” the boy re- 
turned, ‘'but you needn’t be afraid of my 
snitching on you. That goes. Where’s Lem?” 

“When Lem comes,” he replied, “he’ll 
watch, and you can swipe some tobacco and 
grub for me.” 

All night long the boy sat on the stairs and 
waited. In the morning his brother returned, 
and immediately went away again in search of 
food. 

Later in the day. Jack left Lemuel on guard 
while he proceeded to the corner where the 
preaching service had been held and learned 
more fully the particulars of the meeting and 
the assault. 

One part of the narrative interested him 
greatly. It was the description that was given 
of the speaker. So precisely did it correspond 
with the appearance of the minister whom he 


i8o 


THE CHRISTMAN 


had seen on a cold, snowy night in the vestibule 
of the Rutherford church that he determined 
to catch a ride or walk to that village and see 
if he could hear whether the blow that his 
father had struck had proved fatal. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


i8r 


CHAPTER XIV. 

NEWS EROM CRANSTON. 

When the report reached Rutherford that 
Mr. Osborn had been knocked down on the 
streets, there was intense indignation through- 
out the town, for the young man was beloved 
by nearly every one. 

On hearing the news Mrs. Osborn was at 
first prostrated with fear and grief, but sum- 
moning all her strength, she went at once to 
the hospital, accompanied by Elder Root and 
Mr. Hartwell. 

No service was held that evening in the 
Rutherford church, but at the appointed time 
many of the congregation gathered about the 
door and discussed the event vehemently, de- 
nouncing the assailant, and bemoaning the con- 
dition of their pastor. 

The reports that had come were meagre and 
from unreliable sources. A serving man from 


1 82 


THE CHRISTMAN 


Cranston declared that the minister was killed ; 
a conductor on the trolley cars had heard that 
he was living, but that he would die before 
morning; a boy brought the news that he was 
badly cut, but that . the physicians promised his 
recovery. 

Sam Runkle did not attend the service at his 
accustomed place of worship, but joined the 
group in the vestibule of Mr. Osborn’s church 
to talk over the event of the afternoon. When 
he entered, Mrs. Greaves was telling Mrs. Gad- 
dis and Mrs. Cherpin, with tears in her eyes, 
how kind the pastor had been to her in her 
trouble, and Mrs. Gaddis was describing her 
husband’s conversion, which, she declared, was 
all the result of the minister’s personal interest. 

This reference to Mr. Osborn’s influence 
over Mr. Gaddis caused Mrs. Boyar to shake 
her head and bemoan the fact that the pastor 
might, at that very moment, be suffering ex- 
cruciating pain; which possibility Mr. Boyar 
confirmed by a nod of acquiescence and look 
of approval toward his wife. 

'It’s all right, I tell you, it’s all right,” as- 
serted Mr. Cherpin with emphasis. 

No sooner had he given utterance to the 


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183 


words than he noticed a surprised expression on 
the faces of those who heard him. Realizing 
that he had made a mistake, he immediately 
added, ‘Tt’s all right enough — ah — for us to 
stand here, you know, and discuss the matter, 
but — ah-a — it seems to me that we ought to 
be — ah-a — doing something.'’ 

‘^Doing something! What on earth do you 
mean?" exclaimed Mrs. Cherpin. ‘‘Do you 
want us to take up a collection, or what ? Dick, 
you're a very Quilp of kind-heartedness, but 
sometimes I think that you're most dreadfully 
stupid. Do something! The idea!" 

“No one feels any worse about this assault 
on the dominie than I do," asserted Mr. 
Crouch, “but I tell you, my brothers and sis- 
ters, a clergyman ought to stick to his own 
church, and not be gadding about on street 
corners. The place to speak is from a pulpit 
and not from a curbstone. Let a man stand 
behind his own desk and preach what he is told 
to preach by the officers of his church, and he 
won't be in any danger of being insulted and 
knocked down. I don't mean by that to criti- 
cise or blame our dominie; he meant well, no 


184 


THE CHRISTMAN 


doubt, and we all know and admire him, but I 
speak on general principles.” 

Sam Runkle, who stood directly behind Mr. 
Crouch, waited until the money lender had fin- 
ished speaking, then he drew his hand down 
over his face and drawled: 

‘Xe-t me tell yer somethin’, my friend. Ye-r 
may know an’ admire the preacher, but I know 
an’ admire an’ love ’im. It’s m-y opinion that 
a preacher who preaches a-11 that he believes is 
either a fool, or a madcap, I dunno which, 
p’raps both ; a-n’ a preacher who preaches what 
h-e don’t believe, is either a coward or a hypo- 
crite, I dunno which, p’raps both ; a-n’ a 
preacher who preaches only what h-e used ter 
believe, is either a stunt or a bigot, I dunno 
which, p’raps both ; a-n’ a preacher who 

preaches only what h-e thinks he oughter be- 
lieve, is either a striplin’ or a truckler, I dunno 
which, p’raps both ; a-n’ a preacher who 

preaches only what h-e’s told ter believe, is 
either a tool or a slave, I dunno which, p’raps 
both; a-n’ a preacher who preaches only what 
h-e really does believe, is a true man an’ p’raps 
a prophet. Now I dunno where yer preacher 
Osborn gits his idees, p’raps it’s from the 


THE CHRISTMAN 


i8s 


church, o-r p’raps it’s from ’is mother, o-r 
p’raps it may come outer ’is head, or p’raps he 
purloins ’em from the Bible, or p’raps h-e gits 
’em straight from God. H-e gits ’em, an’ gits 
’em hard. That’s sure. An’ whether h-e’s 
right or wrong, he preaches what he really does 
believe, so ye-r can jidge for yerself what I 
think of ’im. A-s fer ther stone thrown, there 
ought to be hangin’ for it ” 

Sam might have continued his remarks had 
not Elder Root entered. Every one gathered 
about him to hear the news that he brought 
from the hospital. 

In a few words he told them that Mr. Os- 
born was badly hurt, but that he was not to be 
regarded as in a serious condition; that the 
strain he had been under during the past few 
months had so run him down that his nerves 
were not able to endure the shock, and that, as 
a result, he was weak and restless, and his re- 
covery would be very slow; but that he was 
conscious, and sent his affectionate regard to 
all the people, with the request that they would 
maintain the work until such time as he was 
permitted to return, which, he hoped, would be 
in the near future. Mrs. Osborn, Elder Root 


i86 


THE CHRISTMAN 


further declared, had seen her son, and was 
now quiet and hopeful. She was resting at 
Mr. Treadwell’s house, and did not wish to be 
disturbed. 

The encouraging report brought comfort to 
all, and there was a general feeling of relief 
when the old man said, ‘‘Now, friends, go 
home and pray for the pastor, and take hold 
of the church activities with increased vigor, 
so that, when he returns, he will see that we 
loved him enough to stand by the work.” 

Miss Clevering, who had stood on the outer 
edge of the group and had listened with trem- 
bling lips and tearful eyes, drew a long breath, 
and gasped, rather than uttered, the words that 
expressed her feelings as she said, “Thank 
God,” and then turned to Mr. Bowman and 
asked to be taken home. 

Mrs. Hartwell was greatly surprised the next 
morning to be called to the front door by Jack 
Hotten, who had rung the bell and then sta- 
tioned himself on the curbstone. Since the 
morning when he ran away from her house he 
had not shown himself, and she wondered what 
this sudden return meant. He was more rag- 
ged and dirty, if possible, than when she last 


THE CHRISTMAN 


187 


saw him, and reluctant about coming near the 
doorstep. 

‘‘Say!’’ he called out, when he saw her, 
‘‘yous treated me white last time, and I cum to 
tell you something. De gospel shark what you 
know got hit in de mug.’’ 

‘‘What do you mean?” she asked. “Come 
in the house and tell me there what you want.” 

“I’s on ter that racket,” he answered, “I 
ain’t going to be cotched. It wouldn’t do no 
good to hold me up, ’cause I wouldn’t snitch to 
de court for no one.” 

“I don’t understand you,” she said; “you’d 
better come in and explain.” 

“No you don’t,” he replied, with so much 
determination that further urging was useless. 
“I wasn’t in de push when he was hit, but I 
know’d about it.” 

“Oh!” she exclaimed, as it dawned on her 
mind that he was referring to Mr. Osborn. 
“Did you see him struck?” 

“Naw,” he answered, “but I know’d about 
it, and ain’t going to snitch;” then he asked, 
“Did he croak?” 

“I don’t understand,” she returned. ' 


THE CHRISTMAN 


i88 


‘^Did he croak when they took him in the rat- 
tler?’’ he tried to explain. 

‘^Oh ! now I think I know what you mean,” 
she said; ‘^you mean, was he killed? No, he 
was only bruised, and I believe that the doctors 
say that he will recover. Come in, won’t you, 
and have some breakfast?” 

‘‘Rats!” he exclaimed. “I ain’t no game.” 

She wondered why he should say “rats” in 
response to her invitation and looked at him in- 
quiringly. 

“Is what you said on de level? Didn’t he 
croak sure ?” he asked. 

“No; he was only slightly injured,” was her 
assuring reply. 

“Gee! dat’s hunkie,” he exclaimed, and ran 
off as rapidly as his little legs would carry him. 

She returned to the house in astonishment. 
Why should the child take such an interest, and 
come all the way from Cranston to find out 
about Mr. Osborn’s condition? And how did 
he know that she was acquainted with the min- 
ister ? 

The following Sunday the Rev. Mr. Scantle- 
becker preached in the church. His name had 
been suggested by Mr. Crouch, and as he was 


THE CHRISTMAN 


189 


the only man immediately available he was en- 
gaged to occupy the pulpit. His sermon was 
not spiritual nor helpful, but it was interesting, 
and was delivered with oratorical effect. 

Mr. Crouch was delighted and, at the close 
of the service, urged Mr. Hartwell and Mr. 
Treadwell to retain Mr. Scantlebecker until the 
pastor’s recovery. 

Feeling unusually happy over the turn of 
events, he left the two men, and started on his 
way home, smiling and bowing to almost every 
one that he met. 

‘Tt’s coming out all right,” he said to him- 
self. ‘T couldn’t have planned it better. The 
dominie’s going to get well in time ; that’s good. 
It would be a misfortune to have him die, but 
it will take some weeks, perhaps months, and 
then the church will insist on his having a long 
rest. The people all like Mr. Scantlebecker. 
Ha! ha! ha! And to think that the dominie 
should have played into my hands so easily. 
The street preaching did it. Ha ! ha ! ha !” 

Just at that moment he turned the corner 
and met Mr. Oswald Bowman face to face. 
The smile that illuminated his countenance 
grew more radiant as he stretched out his hand 
to the young man. 


190 


THE CHRISTMAN 


‘'Bowman, Fm glad to see you. How do you 
do?’’ he exclaimed, but instantly caught his 
breath and drew back, for the man, who was 
evidently in a towering rage, clinched his fists 
and scowled back at him. 

“Who got that fellow to preach this morn- 
ing?” growled the lawyer. 

“Wh — wh — why,” returned the money 
lender in surprise, “th — th — the church, I sup- 
pose. Didn’t you like him? Every one I’ve 
seen spoke well of him.” 

“Like him? Like him?” roared Bowman, 
with an oath, as he vehemently raised his fist. 
“No, I didn’t like him. I caught sight of him 
as I went into church and that was enough for 
me. I skipped at once.” The color deepened 
in his face as he took a long breath, and then 
continued : “Mr. Clevering tells me that you 
urged his coming. What made you do that 
without consulting me? What made you, I 
say?” 

“I di — di — didn’t know that you knew 
him,” stammered Crouch. 

“You didn’t, hey? You didn’t? Well, you 
know it now, you old fool!” he fairly hissed, as 
he shook his fist in his companion’s face. “And 


THE CHRISTMAN 


what’s more, you know me, and you know I’ve 
got you where I want you. You never per- 
jured yourself, did you? You never took usu- 
rious interest, did you? You never helped 
Gorgan to skip the town by hiding him in your 
house that night, did you? Now it’s up to you 
to get that man out of this place, and do it 
quick. Do you hear ? And don’t you mention 
my name to any one in connection with this 
matter either.” 

Crouch nodded his assent, but made no reply, 
and Bowman stared at him in silence for a mo- 
ment, then drew his hand significantly across 
his neck and walked off. 

The moment the young lawyer left him, Mr. 
Crouch walked down an intersecting street and 
went at once to Mr. Rhyder’s house, where Mr. 
Scantlebecker was being entertained. Asking 
to see the minister, he took him aside, and, 
without any explanation, ordered him to plead 
illness or some other excuse, and leave Ruther- 
ford that afternoon and never return. 

The man was surprised at this sudden 
change in his friend’s attitude, and demanded 
a reason, which was promptly refused, so he 
packed his suit case and started at once for 


192 


THE CHRISTMAN 


Newkirk City, leaving the church without a 
supply for the evening. 

The next Friday news came from Cranston 
that Mr. Osborn would be discharged from 
the hospital in about a fortnight. Also that his 
assailant had been arrested, but, at the minis- 
ter’s request, had been released. 

It was learned later that Mr. Osborn not 
only secured Dan Hotten’s release, but that he 
had also sent for him and, after a long talk, 
had secured from the man the promise that if 
he could obtain steady work he would give up 
drinking and care for his family. Relying on 
this pledge, the minister had written to a friend 
in the mountains and secured employment for 
him as a woodcutter. 

When Mr. Osborn returned to Rutherford 
he was so weak and his nerves were so shat- 
tered that his church insisted that he should 
not attempt to preach until autumn. In obedi- 
ence to the wishes of his people, he and his 
mother went to the little village of Greenville 
in the Stonekill valley, near the forest where 
Dan Hotten had been employed. 

There, reading and resting, he slowly re- 
gained his strength. When the weather was 


THE CHRISTMAN 


193 


warm he would lie under the overhanging 
branches of the great trees and watch the squir- 
rels as they leaped from limb to limb or swung 
themselves across the arching green, and would 
coax them to his side with nuts; or he would 
find some shaded nook where he could sit and 
listen to a story of modern life and daring that 
his mother had selected from the village library. 
When the air was cool and pleasant, he would 
climb to Dan Hotten’s camp to talk to and en- 
courage him, or would sit on some overhang- 
ing cliff and watch the shimmering waters of 
the Stonekill as they flowed in and out among 
the trees and circled the little village at his feet. 

Every Sunday he saw the woodcutter and 
his son Lemuel at the village church. It was 
not the preaching that attracted the man, but 
rather a desire to see his new friend and bene- 
factor, and secure from him a word of ap- 
proval and encouragement. 

Days and weeks passed; and gradually Mr. 
Osborn felt fresh life coursing through his 
veins and new energy coming to his frame. 
Long before he was able to return he wanted to 
be back in Rutherford among his people. 


194 


THE CHRISTMAN 


CHAPTER XV. 
crippi.e:d saint. 

While not strong enough to render any aid 
to the pastor of the Greenville church, Mr. Os- 
born was a regular attendant on the Sunday 
morning service, and became so well acquainted 
with the people that he frequently stopped at 
their homes on his rambles, when he was al- 
ways received with large-hearted hospitality. 

Among those whom he met every Sabbath 
was a cripple by the name of Abel Southgate, 
who occupied a front seat and was always very 
attentive to the preaching. The congregation 
knew when he entered by the thumping of his 
cane. When the sound of his stick was heard 
on the vestibule floor, Mr. Osborn would look 
around that he might catch sight of the man’s 
face as he went to his seat, for there was a ra- 
diance about it that told of inner hope and joy, 
and that made him think of the glory that, il- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


195 


lumined the countenance of Moses when he 
came down from the Mount. 

The pastor declared that Abel Southgate’s 
influence was more deeply felt in the com- 
munity than that of all his other church mem- 
bers combined, that to know him was an in- 
spiration, and to converse with him was a 
benediction. 

He lived up on the mountainside, a long dis- 
tance from the church, and would have been 
unable to attend public worship had it not been 
for the kind offices of a neighbor, who stopped 
at his door and invited him to a seat by his side 
every Sunday morning as he drove down the 
steep logging road to the Sabbath service. 

One day the village minister told Mr. Osborn 
the story of the cripple’s life; how he was born 
in affluence, and had lost his money through the 
dishonesty of others, and had heroically set to 
work earning his living as best he could. Meet- 
ing with an accident, he had been maimed for 
life, and was driven to Greenville by poverty 
and an opportunity to ply the trade of cobbling 
and making door mats. Losing his wife during 
an epidemic, he went to live with a friend on 
the mountainside, where he opened a little 


196 


THE CHRISTMAN 


booth for the sale of confectionery and sou- 
venirs for summer guests and visitors. There, 
surrounded by the great pine trees, he sold his 
wares, communed with God and preached the 
gospel of hope by his saintly life and words of 
comfort and encouragement. 

Hearing the story, Mr. Osborn determined 
to visit the man, and learn if he could the se- 
cret of his wonderful spiritual power. So one 
bright, clear day he left his mother with a 
neighbor and set out to find the man's home. 
Climbing the steep ascent by a narrow, rugged 
footpath, to avoid the wagon route, he at last 
came to the cabin. It was on the main road 
near a waterfall that was frequently visited by 
tourists, and encircled in the rear by a grove of 
giant pines that cast their sombre shadows over 
the place in quiet protectiveness. 

As he drew near he saw Abel sitting on a 
bed of moss near his booth, his back resting 
against a great rock. The open Bible lay on his 
lap, and Osborn could see that he was tracing 
the lines with his finger as he read and moving 
his lips as though engaged in conversation. 
He learned afterwards that the inspired volume 
was to the cripple a kind of scala sancta on 


THE CHRISTMAN 


197 


which he mounted heavenward, lifted at one 
moment by a divine promise and at another by 
a note of praise. Reading and praying, he 
climbed the sacred stairway until his soul dwelt 
in heavenly places and he was able to commune 
with the unseen. ‘'The groves were God’s first 
temples,” and the saint, bereft of all that earth 
held dear, had learned how to worship in the 
holy house. 

Mr. Osborn had drawn very near before his 
presence was known. A branch broken be- 
neath his feet caused the cripple to look up; 
then a smile illumined his features, and, rest- 
ing on his cane and bracing himself against the 
rock, he raised himself to his feet with diffi- 
culty. 

Mr. Osborn called and asked him to remain 
seated, but he only nodded graciously in re- 
turn, and hobbled out into the road to meet his 
visitor. 

“Welcome, thrice welcome,” he said as he 
grasped the minister’s hand. “Welcome to my 
cabin, to my heart and to my fellowship. How 
good of you to climb that rugged way to see an 
old man like me.” 

“And how good of you to give me such a 


198 


THE CHRISTMAN 


royal greeting,” returned Mr. Osborn. ‘T’m 
sorry that you rose from your comfortable seat 
on the moss. Come, let me help you back, and 
I will sit there beside you ; it is cool and shady 
by the rock. No better place could be found 
for a friendly chat.” 

He took hold of the young man’s arm, and, 
leaning on his cane, returned to his seat. 

‘‘Abel,” said Mr. Osborn, after they had 
talked for some time on matters of general 
interest, ‘‘I want to ask you a question. There 
is a godly woman in Rutherford who is a mem- 
ber of my church. She is one of the most de- 
vout and earnest Christians that I ever knew. 
One time, in conversation with her, she told me 
that spiritual experiences of peace and power 
could not be obtained by prayer and should not 
therefore be sought in that way, that such ex- 
periences were really not obtainments at all, but 
rather gifts bestowed without the asking and 
possessed by every one who received Christ in 
his fulness. Then she quoted Scripture to 
prove her point, and I was not able to contro- 
vert her statement, yet I felt that she could not 
be wholly right.” 

^‘Yes, wholly right,” he answered, ^'and you 


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199 


will find it so, but if she said no more, she 
showed you the celestial city without opening 
the gate thereof/’ 

‘'The gate,” observed Mr. Osborn, as though 
speaking to himself, “what can the gate be?” 

“The Sadducees came to Jesus with the ques- 
tion, ‘Whose wife shall she be in the resurrec- 
tion ?’ ” he continued, “and the Master, in his 
answer, declared that God was not the God of 
the dead, but of the living. Most of us do not 
believe that, and there is where all the trouble 
lies. We believe that God is only the God of 
those who are dead, and have entered into ce- 
lestial life; but He is our Father and His Son 
is our Brother beloved, the living, loving Christ 
of living, loving men. God says to us, through 
Him, as He said to Moses through the Angel 
in the flame of fire, ‘I am that I am. I will be 
with thee. Go, I will teach thee what thou 
shalt say.’ Yes, she was right ; we need to pos- 
sess him and him alone, but we can never pos- 
sess him until we first realize that he is actually 
near us waiting to be possessed. ‘Lo! I am 
with you alway.’ Can we doubt His word ?” 

There was silence for a few moments. “Go 


200 


THE CHRISTMAN 


on,” said Mr. Osborn, ‘‘explain the matter fully 
to me.” 

“No,” returned the man, “I cannot; realiza- 
tion alone furnishes a full explanation. Nico- 
demus once wanted an explanation of that great 
mystery, regeneration, but Jesus never grati- 
fied his wish. He knew that understanding 
came by experience and not by words. He 
therefore pointed out the way and called upon 
the ruler to look and live. There are but three 
steps by which the Christian can become a true 
Christman; the first is by a receiving faith that 
claims Jesus as an Almighty Saviour; the sec- 
ond is by an abiding faith that retains Him as 
an ever present friend and counselor, and the 
third is by a submissive faith that lets Him do 
His will in and through the life.” 

“Then you count it all of faith,” said Mr. 
Osborn. 

“All of faith,” repeated the cripple. “By 
faith in an unseen but living God, whose pres- 
ence was vividly realized in the past, men sub- 
dued kingdoms, wrought righteousness, ob- 
tained promises, and out of weakness were 
made strong. By that same realizing faith in 
the unseen but living Christ, we may hear a 


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201 


heavenly voice speaking through the pages of 
the Bible, giving us direction and help. By that 
same realizing faith in the unseen but living 
Christ, we may lay hold of the arm that is 
mighty to save and find deliverance from doubts 
and fears and sins. By that same realizing 
faith in the’ unseen but living Christ, we may 
speak to others, and our words will take hold 
of their consciences and wills in regenerating 
and sanctifying power. By that same realizing 
faith in the unseen but living Christ, we may 
find comfort in our troubles, and feel the throb- 
bing of the divine Father’s compassionate heart. 
By that same realizing faith in the unseen but 
living Christ we may commune with heaven 
and find our souls filled with a peace that 
passes all understanding and that causes our 
lives to be enwrapped with love and hope, as 
the odor of the pine trees enwraps the place 
where we are now sitting.” 

They talked on for a long time. Mr. Osborn 
asked many questions, and Abel Southgate an- 
swered them by quoting God’s promises and re- 
peating the story of his own experiences. 

When the young minister arose to go, the 
cripple hobbled down the road with him until 


202 


THE CHRISTMAN 


the path became too steep, then he grasped his 
visitor's hand and bade him farewell. 

‘‘A Christman! A Christman!" Osborn said 
exultantly, as he picked his way over the fallen 
trees and rocks. 'Ts it really possible? Yes, but 
only by realizing faith that is defined and illus- 
trated in the eleventh chapter of the Epistle to 
the Hebrews. Strange I never understood it 
before. He lives ! He lives ! I believe, there- 
fore I know." 

Mr. Osborn spent much of the next week in 
prayer and in reviewing the words of his moun- 
tain friend. As he went about claiming the 
promises of God, and seeking to realize the 
presence of a living Christ, he found his mind 
grow strangely restful, a quiet peace stole over 
his spirit, and his vision of duty seemed more 
clear and commanding. The simple confidence, 
buoyant hope, winning cheerfulness and 
abounding love that was manifest in all he did 
was noticed by his mother, who easily drew 
from him the account of Abel Southgate's 
teaching. 

Soon he sought to interest the cripple in Dan 
Hotten. Together they prayed for the wood- 
cutter and his two boys, but it was not for a 


THE CHRISTMAN 


203 


year that their prayers were answered, wherK 
the strong man and his sons bowed their hearts 
to the rule of Christ. 

The Sabbath before Mr. Osborn had ar- 
ranged to return home he went to church, ex- 
pecting to meet the pastor and tell him of his 
intended departure, but he was away at a 
church conference and a stranger occupied the 
pulpit. 

Disappointed at not seeing the regular minis- 
ter, he settled himself in his pew with the de- 
termination that, whatever the message might 
be, he would find in it some spiritual help. 

The preacher was a young man with rather 
a pleasing manner, who held the attention of 
the people by his illustrations and bright say- 
ings, but he lacked heart power, and gave the 
impression that he was seeking to entertain 
rather than instruct, or inspire, his hearers. 

At the close of the service Mr. Osborn went 
forward to greet him. 

‘T do not know your name,’’ he said, on 
grasping the minister’s hand, ‘‘but being myself 
a clergyman I thought that I should like to 
meet you.” 


264 


The CHRISTMAN 


‘^Ah ! yes,” said the young man. ‘‘My name 
is Scantlebecker, and yours is ?” 

“Osborn,” he returned, and then the memory 
of Mr. Truesdale’s words came to him. “I am 
from Rutherford. I believe that you preached 
in my church one Sunday when I was ill.” 

The young man was evidently embarrassed, 
for he cleared his throat and stammered, then a 
gleam of anger flashed in his eyes, as he said : 

“Yes, I did, and I think that I might have oc- 
cupied the pulpit during the whole period of 
your illness had it not been for the machina- 
tions of some one whom I suspect didn't just 
care to -have me there.” 

“Indeed !” returned Mr. Osborn in surprise. 

“Yes, and I don't mind telling you who it 
was. He came into church that morning and 
when he saw me in the pulpit he left, but I 
caught sight of him in the vestibule. Mark my 
word,” and he shook his finger in certification 
of his purpose, “if ever I have a chance I'll get 
even with Oswald Bowman. He can't turn me 
down that way and not feel my toes on his 
shins. I didn't know what had become of him 
until that Sunday morning. We read law to- 
gether in old Truesdale's office. That was be- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


205 


fore I studied for the ministry. Then he left 
town, and never told any one where he was go- 
ing. I know him, and Til get even with him; 
see if I don't. I'd never said a word if he 
hadn't bounced me there in Rutherford. I 
knew he was back of it when I got my orders to 

go*" 

‘‘You must remember," said Mr. Osborn, 
^‘that Mr. Bowman is one of my parishioners. 
You are speaking to his pastor." 

‘‘He is, hey!" the man replied. “A church 
member! Worse and worse! The hypocrite! 
Well, I hope all your church members are not 
like him, that's all." Then, taking hold of the 
lapel of Mr. Osborn's coat, he asked, “Who's 
the girl that he's courting?" 

“You mean Miss Clevering. He's engaged 
to her," Osborn answered. 

“Clevering! Clevering! Maud Clevering! 
By Jove!" he exclaimed in great excitement. 
Did he rope it in on that Clevering girl ? He's 
got nerve enough to court a queen. If I don't 
let her know what Os. Bowman's up to, then 
my name isn't Scantlebecker." 

Mr. Osborn had no confidence in Mr. Bow- 
man. He had felt sure for a long time that the 


2o6 


THE CHRISTMAN 


lawyer was not sincere in his profession of re- 
ligion, and that his engagement to Miss Clever- 
ing was for some selfish motive; and while he 
did not approve of Mr. Scantlebecker’s vindic- 
tive spirit, he felt a secret pleasure in the 
thought that something might be done to break 
off the engagement. 

“Sit down,’' said Mr. Scantlebecker. “I want 
to tell you something.” 

Every one had left the church but Mrs. Os- 
born, who was in the vestibule talking to the 
sexton and waiting for her son. 

The two men seated themselves in the front 
pew and Mr. Scantlebecker began : 

“Bowman and I read law together in old 
Truesdale’s office, as I told you. Well, Trues- 
dale’s specialty was drawing wills. In that way 
he had made himself executor of I don’t know 
how many estates. I’ll say this much for him 
— if he was sharp, he was honest. No man 
could ever charge him with taking a dollar that 
didn’t belong to him. Of course. Bowman and 
I heard a good deal in the office about legacies 
and such matters. The Clevering estate was 
one of the largest old Truesdale ever had any- 
thing to do with. It footed up over eight hun- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


207 


dred thousand dollars. It must be a million 
now. Rufus Clevering had two brothers, 
who with him shared a life interest in the 
estate. His older brother, John, was the only 
one that was married, but he had no chil- 
dren, so that, eventually, Maud and Ruth, be- 
ing the only grandchildren, would receive the 
entire fortune. Os. Bowman knew this. We; 
used to talk it over sometimes, and he’d al- 
ways bring it in some way that the fellow 
who married one of those girls would be a 
lucky dog. I never thought that he was plan- 
ning to do it himself, but I’m on to him now, 
and, by Jove, if she takes him, she’ll do it with 
her eyes open.” 

Mr. Osborn could say nothing, so he arose, 
and, bidding the man farewell, joined his 
mother. 


2o8 


THE CHRISTMAN 


CHAPTER XVI. 

TRANS]?ORMED MINISTER. 

There was great rejoicing in Rutherford 
when Mr. Osborn returned. The parsonage 
had been renovated from top to bottom. A 
delegation of people from each of the societies 
in the church met him in Cranston at the rail- 
way station. Sam Runkel harnessed his new 
span of horses to his best carriage and drove up 
to the car platform a full half-hour before the 
arrival of the train. He was never happier 
than when he helped Mrs. Osborn and her son 
into his vehicle and started on his way home. 

A reception was tendered the minister in 
Mr. Covering’s house during the week. All 
the church people were present, besides many 
invited guests. Mr. Bowman was unusually 
animated and jubilant, on account of his antici- 
pated marriage, which was to take place in two 
weeks. So soon as he caught sight of Mr. Os- 
born, his face lighted up and he hurried for- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


209 


ward and greeted him with great effusiveness ; 
then he turned and laughed and joked with the 
young people, but in all his gaiety he never for- 
got to keep a constant watch over Miss Clever- 
ing, to whom he paid marked attention. 

''I tell you,” said Mr. Crouch, pressing his 
way through the group of admirers that sur- 
rounded the minister, tell you, dominie, 
we’re lucky enough to get you home again. 
No, I won’t call it luck, for I believe that that 
word is not considered quite orthodox in these 
days. I’ll change my statement and say that 
it’s a Providence you have returned just as you 
have, in time to tie the knot for our two young 
people. Don’t you say so. Brother Clevering? 
Ha! ha! ha! But I hope that the dominie has 
learned a lesson from last winter’s experience, 
and won’t go preaching on any street corners 
before the ceremony; because if he does, he 
may be in the hospital when he’s wanted in the 
church. Ha! ha! ha!” 

The thought of performing the ceremony 
that would make Miss Clevering the wife of 
Mr. Bowman caused Mr. Osborn to set his lips 
as though in refusal, then he remembered Mr, 


210 


THE CHRISTMAN 


Scantlebecker’s threat, and wondered if any- 
thing would come of it. 

When Mr. and Mrs. Gaddis came forward 
the minister knew in a moment that the man 
had remained true to Christ, and that the two 
were rejoicing in the fellowship of the Gospel. 
Mr. Gaddis seemed almost like a boy, so buoy- 
ant were his spirits and so bright was his smile, 
as he stretched out both of his hands and 
grasped those of his pastor with cordiality and 
warmth ; while Mrs. Gaddis’ face became radi- 
ant with a pleasure that was born of inward 
peace. 

*'Oh, Mr. Osborn, how glad I am to see 
you,” exclaimed Mrs. Cherpin. ‘‘It’s just 
splendid to have you back with us again. Do 
you know, we’ve all been as doleful as we could 
be while you were away ; you’d a thought that 
the church was a regular Arcadia by the long 
faces that were seen every Sunday. But now 
Niobe reigns supreme again, and we are 
happy.” 

“Ah — a, fine, very fine,” agreed Mr. Cher- 
pin. He would have added to his statement 
had it not been for Mrs. Bubble, who came 
bustling forward in her impetuous way, and 


THE CHRISTMAN 


2II 


laughingly asked Mr. Osborn how he liked the 
new papering in the parsonage. 

‘‘Mr. Bubble and I think that it’s just too 
lovely for anything,” she declared. “Mr. Hart- 
well took a great deal of pains selecting the 
patterns, and hired the very best desecrator that 
he could find in all Cranston.” 

“Do you remember the last time that we had 
the house done over?” inquired Mrs. Conover. 
“It was before Mr. Osborn came. Mr. Taller 
was with us then. He went away on one of his 
vacations, and we ” 

“I should think I did remember,” interrupted 
Mrs. Rhyder, in a loud voice. “I knew when 
he returned he was all put out over the changes 
that had been made in the front bedroom, but 
he couldn’t say anything. Just think of it, yel- 
low stripes with a purple border. I don’t won- 
der that it grated on his sense of the fitness of 
things.” 

Others presented themselves, and Mr. Os- 
born was kept very busy the next half hour 
shaking hands, answering questions, and listen- 
ing to words of welcome and good fellowship. 

When every one had assured him of the 
pleasure that was felt in having him back in 


212 


THE CHRISTMAN 


Rutherford, refreshments were served and 
more friendly talk ensued. Finally, the people 
consulted their watches, and there was a gen- 
eral movement toward the cloak room. 

Many of the minister’s friends had noticed, 
on meeting him since his return, and at the re- 
ception, that he did not appear the same as 
when he left town in the early spring. A 
change had taken place in his demeanor and 
expression, and they frequently turned to look 
at him, or listen to his remarks, wondering 
what it was that made him different. There 
was no regret mingled with their perplexity, for 
they felt drawn to him as never before by some 
invisible influence. His old-time cheerfulness 
remained, but it was clothed with a winning 
grace that gave a charm to his presence. His 
forehead was as high and shapely as ever, but 
the furrows of care and anxiety had all dis- 
appeared. His eyes had lost their old brooding 
look, that told of mental depression and 
gloomy foreboding, and the nervous hesitancy 
that had so often showed itself in conversation 
was gone, and a quiet assurance had taken its 
place. There was a new manliness and nobility 
in his bearing that commanded respect and con- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


213 


fidence. Mr. Osborn had left Rutherford a 
heart-sick and worried pastor, uncertain as to 
duty, and kept in constant perplexity by a sen- 
sitive conscience. He had returned a stalwart 
servant of Jesus Christ. 

There is a tree on the walls of the old city of 
Canton that shows vitality in branch and twig 
and leaf, but its trunk is hollow and its life is 
nearly spent. Another tree has made its ap- 
pearance within the old outer shell of wood and 
bark, and has reached upward and spread out- 
ward until the time is close at hand when the 
sapling grown will break through all barriers 
and be itself supreme. 

By a faith that was the evidence of things 
not seen, Mr. Osborn came to possess God. 
Through the realized presence of a living 
Christ, a new divine life grew and strengthened 
within his soul. Men saw that he had been 
transformed by the renewing of his mind, and 
honored him as one under the control of 
Heaven. 

If the members of the church were surprised 
and pleased at the change that had taken place 
in their pastor, they marveled when they heard 
him preach. The old nervous tension and con- 


214 


THE CHRISTMAN 


stant effort to hold and interest the congrega- 
tion was gone. Flights of oratory and emo- 
tional pleadings gave place to direct manly 
talk. At times he became eloquent, but it was 
only when he let his heart flow into the hearts 
of his hearers, making them one with him in 
thought and purpose. His complete abandon- 
ment of all traditional pulpit tones and expres- 
sions at first startled them, then riveted their 
attention. Men, women, and even children, 
listened as to one who had a real message, and 
when the services were over they went home 
with a deepened sense of personal responsibility 
and longing for God. 

From the first Sunday after Mr. Osborn’s 
return a new impulse took possession of the 
people. Social gatherings and schemes that 
furthered Christian fellowship were continued, 
but dependence on extraneous methods for 
financial support and religious work were 
spontaneously abandoned, and the church be- 
came at once a center of beneficent influence 
and spiritual power. 

Throngs gathered at the Sunday and week 
night services, and listened attentively to the 
Word spoken, and then went away to lead bet- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


^15 


ter lives. Faith took the place of doubt, hope 
of fear and love of uncharitableness. 

There was no need of oiitside help to bring 
about a revival, for the people were already re- 
vived. With a new wish came a new life, and 
with the new life a pervading spirit of evangel- 
ism. 

The day after the reception Mr. Bowman 
called on Mr. Osborn and asked him to per- 
form the marriage ceremony that would unite 
him to Miss Clevering for life. He was very 
happy, and dwelt at length on his own good 
fortune in securing so estimable a young 
woman for a bride. 

Mr. Osborn listened to his words as one in 
a dream; a cloud rested on his spirits for the 
first time since he had entered into his new ex- 
perience. It lasted but for a brief period, for, 
staying his heart in faith on an unseen Christ, 
and longing for comfort and direction, he 
found help. Again he was in the sunlight of 
the divine presence. 

When the young lawyer had secured a favor- 
able response to his request, he left the house, 
and the minister, after a season of communion 
with God, went to see Elder Root. He felt 


2i6 


THE CHRISTMAN 


that the time had come when it was his duty 
to make known what he had heard concerning 
Oswald Bowman. 

The old man heard the story of the lawyer’s 
hypocrisy, and volunteered to call at once on 
Mr. Clevering, and warn him against giving his 
consent to the marriage. 

‘‘Father Root,” said Mr. Clevering, when his 
friend had communicated the object of his er- 
rand, “your words but add to my grief. I have 
had no confidence in the young man for a long 
time, but I am helpless to prevent the union. 
Maud will listen to nothing that is said against 
Oswald. Her reply to my warnings is always 
the same. ‘He is a member of the church,’ she 
declares, ‘an active Christian, kind and consid- 
erate to every one, and has never deceived me 
in any way. How could I therefore be so 
heartless and cruel as to doubt him at the last 
moment because of idle gossip?’ You can 
judge for yourself how she feels, when I tell 
you that, only this morning, I handed her a let- 
ter that reflected on Bowman’s motives and 
she would not read it. Glancing at the first par- 
agraph, she indignantly tore it in pieces and 
flung it in the waste basket. True, the letter 


THE CHRISTMAN 


217 

was unsigned, but it came from some one in 
Newkirk City, who seemed to have known 
Oswald when he was a law student in Mr. 
Truesdale’s office. It was a very severe de- 
nunciation, and while I do not generally ap- 
prove of paying any attention to anonymous 
meddlers, I felt that the charges were suffi- 
ciently definite to call for investigation. But 
what is the use ? Maud is not in love with Os- 
wald, she’s only infatuated. I feel sure that 
could she be made to see that he is not what 
he appears she would spurn him at once, but 
it’s too late, too late ; I can only await results. 
The invitations are out. Poor child ! I would 
rather see her lying in her coffin than give her 
away to that man next Wednesday.” Having 
thus expressed himself, Mr. Clevering covered 
his face and turned toward the mantel. 

He little thought that, at the very moment 
when he was pouring out his grief to Elder 
Root, his daughter was upstairs engaged in 
picking the torn pieces of Mr. Scantlebecker’s 
communication from the waste basket and fit- 
ting the parts together. 

Slowly and laboriously she matched the let- 
ters and uneven edges until, at last, every frag- 


2i8 


THE CHRISTMAN 


ment was in its proper place and spread on the 
table. Then she began reading. ‘‘He’s work- 
ing a scheme to get your money.” “It’s false!” 
she declared. “It’s absolutely false 1 He 
doesn’t know that I have any expectancy what- 
ever. It’s all a lie. How should he find out, I 
should like to know? “When he was reading 
law in Mr. Truesdale’s office.” “Reading 
law in Mr. Truesdale’s office! The idea! 
He never read law in Mr. Truesdale’s office or 
he would have told me. It’s a scandalous at- 
tempt to injure Oswald. He doesn’t even dare 
to sign his name. I won’t believe a word of it. 
I won’t. Oswald may not be a pious sentimen- 
talist, but he’s a true Christian, and he loves 
me. It’s all a lie, and I’ll marry him in spite 
of every one,” and she angrily swept the pieces 
back into the basket. 

Then she walked across the room and, draw- 
ing a rocker up by the window, opened a book, 
but instead of reading continued to commune 
with herself. 

“I wonder what’s got into every one?” she 
asked. “I don’t like to have people look as 
though I was going to my own funeral, and 
insinuate that Oswald Bowman isn’t what he 


THE CHRISTMAN 


219 


pretends to be. I should think that I ought to 
know him better than any one else. I wouldn’t 
care for all that was said if it wasn’t for father. 
They’ve worked him up so that he’s almost 
frantic over my marriage. He told me yester- 
day that I didn’t really love the man I intended 
to marry. I wonder how he knows? He 
doesn’t realize that it isn’t my nature to be bill- 
ing and cooing all the time, and Oswald doesn’t 
care to be coddled. Suppose that I don’t love 
him, what of it? I like him and respect him, 
and when people have interests in common that 
often grows into love. Besides, I’ve promised, 
and I won’t go back on my promise unless I 
have positive proof that he is deceiving me. 
It’s too late now any way, the day is set and 
the invitations are out.” 

Having thus expressed her views, she looked 
steadily at her book for a long time, but did 
not turn a leaf. Then she flung the volume 
back on the table and remarked in an irritated 
tone of voice, ‘T wish that I’d never met that 
Mr. Osborn.” 

The next moment she was bending over the 
waste paper basket again picking out the frag- 
ments of Mr. Scantlebecker’s letter. 


220 


THE CHRISTMAN 


Elder Root left Mr. Clevering's house with 
depressed spirits, and went at once to the par- 
sonage, to report the failure of his mission. 

‘Tt’s of no use,’’ he said. ‘‘Maud is simply 
infatuated, and absolutely refuses to believe 
anything.” 

“Father Root,” returned the minister : 
“weVe done all that we can, now we must 
pray. Some way God will make the path plain 
before her. I know not how.” 


THE CHRISTMAN 


221 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Rl^nnARSAl,. 

*'Good afternoon, preacher,’’ Sam Runkle 
called out, as he noticed Mr. Osborn’s form sil- 
houetted against the brightness that came 
through the stable door. “Don’t stand there 
like a wooden soldier. Come in and sit down. 
I’ll be through ileing this harness in a minute 
and can talk to yer.” 

Mr. Osborn entered, and Sam asked : “I sup- 
pose yer’ve come to inquire whether I’ve heard 
the news? Ye-s, I have. It’s town talk by this 
time.” 

“What news?” the minister demanded, as he 
reached out his hand to grasp that of the livery- 
man. 

“ ‘Firstly, secondly, thirdly,’ that’s what the 
preachers say,’ returned Sam. “Firstly, I 
heard that the Reverend John Osborn of Ruth- 
erford has received a call to a regular peacock- 


222 


THE CHRISTMAN 


struttin’ church in a big city, an’, seein’ as the 
premium is double what it is here, it’s likely to 
be regarded as a cle-ar call of the Lord ; but it’s 
my opinion that it’s more likely to be the voice 
of Shekels the Goldsmith, than that of the Al- 
mighty. Secondly, I he-ard that Ed. Greaves 
has got a pardon, bein’ more sinned against 
than sinnin’, an’ is cornin’ home; but it’s my 
opinion that in-stead of his goin’ to his mother 
he’d better stand outside the prison wall and 
wa-it for his mother to go to him. Then they 
can both travel ofif together where they’re not 
known and start life all over. Thirdly, I 
he-ard that Os. Bowman has actually jerked in 
his line and cotched his fish, an’ that the Rever- 
end John Osborn is a-goin’ to take it off the 
hook for him, and throw it inter the basket, but 
it’s my opinion that if I were asked to do the 
job, I-ed let the fish slip through my fingers, if 
I could, and give the helpless little critter a 
chance to git back inter the water. Thar, that’s 
the end of my sermon. Amen ! Why don’t yer 
sit down, preacher?” 

Mr. Osborn laughed and then went over to 
the bench indicated by the liveryman. ‘T’ve 
heard the same news that you have,” he re- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


223 


marked. ‘‘As far as the call is concerned, I 
think that in most cases you can lay it down as 
a rule that the larger the salary the larger the 
church, and the greater the ability of the people 
to extend their work, and the larger the church 
and ability of the members the larger the op- 
portunity for service, so that a minister should 
think very seriously before refusing a call that 
seems to promise greater usefulness, but in this 
particular case my views coincide with yours, 
and I have put a letter in the Post Office saying 
that my work in Rutherford is not yet done and 
I must decline the call. As for Greaves, he is 
not coming home. I have found a place for 
him to work in the mountains, chopping wood. 
It is near Greenville, where he will come un- 
der good influences. His mother will settle up 
her affairs at once and go out there and make 
a home for him. As for Bowman’s piscatorial 
pursuits, I see no prospects of the fish getting 
back into the water.” 

Sam chuckled at the prospect of Mr. Os- 
born’s remaining in Rutherford, and remarked : 
“See-in’ as yer took my advice before I gave it. 
I’ll tell you another bit of news that ain’t got 
any advice tacked on behind. I he-ard that the 


224 


THE CHRISTMAN 


money lender says that yer to-o much for him, 
and when Os. Bowman is married he won't 
have any more use for the church an' is a-goin' 
to leave. I know his goin' will make yer feel 
awe-ful sorry fer — the other church an' the 
new dominie that'll have to preach to him, but 
then yer got ter have yer tribulations like other 
folks." 

^T'd rather have him stay and do right," re- 
turned Mr. Osborn. 

"T know yer would," Sam answered, ^‘but 
then yer can't. He-'s goin' sure. Yer won't 
kick yer legs out when he pulls the string, a-n’ 
the brothers a-n' sisters, as he calls ’em, don't 
turn the corners when he jerks on the rein, a-n’ 
he don’t like it. As to his bein’ converted, I 
rea-d onst about a man in India who had to 
sleep se-ven years on iron spikes to make merit 
for breaking the law. By the time the five 
years was up his skin was as tough as a 
rhinoceros’ hide, an’ he liked it better 'an sleep- 
in’ on soft mats. ‘Spikes,’ he said, ‘wa-s softer 
’an swan’s down,’ and that’s what I think is 
the matter with the banker; there ain’t any 
spikes in your church for him to lie down on, 
an’ as he ha-s to have ’em for comfort, he an^ 


THE CHRISTMAN 


225 


his wife are goin' to find some place where they 
tie bayonets in bundles an’ stack ’em up fer 
beds, an’ yer can’t blame him, fer if a church 
isn’t any comfort to a man, wha-t’s the good 
of his stayin’ in it? Some folks are s-o used 
to misery, that they’re not happy ’less they’re 
miserable.” 

True to Sam’s statement, Mr. and Mrs. 
Crouch soon asked for their letters, and con- 
nected themselves with another church, where 
Mr. Crouch criticised the minister severely, and 
finally secured sufficient influence to compel his 
resignation from the pastorate. Then the 
money lender interested himself in the question 
of renting sittings in the House of God, and in- 
sisted on free pews so strongly that when a 
vote was taken the membership was divided. 
Bitter words ensued. Party was ranged 
against party. Leading one of the factions, he 
went off and organized a new church in a pub- 
lic hall. The enterprise had a struggling ex- 
istence for a few years. Then there were dis- 
cords among the attendants. Some of the most 
active lost their interest and withdrew, and the 
enterprise was abandoned. Neither Mr. 
Crouch nor his wife ever associated themselves 


226 


THE CHRISTMAN 


with a church again, but contented themselves 
with an occasional attendance on Sabbath serv- 
ices. Not considering himself a professing 
Christian, the money lender felt at liberty to 
criticise ministers and characterize all religious 
organizations as ‘‘nests of hypocrites.” 

The only subject that filled the minds of the 
people of Rutherford at this time was the ap- 
proaching wedding. Mr. Clevering was loth to 
have Maud leave home, on the ground that she 
could be more comfortable in his house than in 
any other place, and that both he and her 
younger sister needed her. So it was finally 
arranged to have Mr. Bowman take up his 
abode in Mr. Clevering's homestead. 

The lawyer did not at first like this arrange- 
ment, as he was afraid that his father-in-law 
might discover his intentions with regard to 
Maud’s inheritance, but being assured of his 
own powers of deception, he felt that, by a little 
tactfulness, he could “pull the wool over the 
old man’s eyes,” as he declared, and in time se- 
cure his good will and confidence. “He cannot 
live over three years,” he affirmed to himself. 
“During that time I will have the satisfaction 
of seeing him go into his dotage. Maud now 


THE CHRISTMAN 


227 


trusts me absolutely, and, with her father’s fa- 
vorable regard, which must surely come, I shall 
be able to secure Ruth’s confidence, and so 
control the whole estate, which will be much 
better than working in a law office and leading 
a dog’s life for a living.” 

With his mind filled with such thoughts, he 
went about the streets with a beaming face and 
received the congratulations of his friends with 
a heartiness that was quite unusual with him. 

Elated with his prospects in life, he hurried 
to the church on the evening that was to pre- 
cede the wedding, that he might take his part 
with others in the rehearsal that had been 
planned by Miss Clevering. 

Quite a company had assembled in the back 
of the auditorium, and were laughing and talk- 
ing about the coming event when he entered. 
At once they raised a shout of welcome, and 
repeated the words of good-natured raillery 
that they had spoken in his absence. 

‘'You can laugh all you please,” he said, but 
wait until after to-morrow, when you see how 
happy Maud and I are you’ll all want to be 
married. I suspect our example will be fol- 
lowed by a lot of you before a year’s up.” 


228 


THE CHRISTMAN 


Just at that moment Mr. Osborn entered 
with his mother. Miss Clevering immediately 
gathered her attendants about her, and stated 
her plans and arrangements. Then she gave 
directions as to the entrance and positions of 
those who were to accompany her at the cere- 
mony. 

Ethel Root had been selected as maid of 
honor; Leonora Treadwell and Ruth Clever- 
ing, who were considered too young to assume 
the more responsible position, were asked to 
act as bridesmaids. Mr. Bowman had secured 
Raymond Hazzard as his best man, and Rufus 
Timer and Robert Knibbs, with several others, 
as ushers. 

Each of the young people took the place, and 
performed the duties that were assigned to him, 
entering and standing as he was directed. 

'T think we all know our parts now,'’ said 
Miss Clevering, ^‘but to make sure, let’s us 
go through it once more, if we can have the 
music. The organist turned in her seat, and 
was about to play the wedding march for the 
fifth time, when Ruth turned to her sister, and 
said; 

‘‘Oh, Maud; I almost forgot to give you this 


THE CHRISTMAN 


229 


letter. It came in the last delivery, and I 
brought it over, thinking that it might have 
something to do with the rehearsal.’’ 

Miss Clevering took the letter. It was ad- 
dressed to her. The handwriting she at once 
recognized as the same that inscribed the 
anonymous communication that was sent to her 
father, and it was postmarked from the same 
place. The keen interest that she had taken in 
the proceedings of the evening was at once 
gone. The young people went through their 
parts, but she was indifferent to their errors of 
position, and hesitated when asked for advice. 
Several who were present noticed that she 
trembled when she walked, and that her face 
had grown very white. 

As the company left the church Mr. Clever- 
ing called Ruth aside, and asked her what it 
was that she had given her sister. Being told 
that it was a letter that was postmarked from 
Newkirk City, he set his lips and shook his head 
as though the answer had started a train of dis- 
agreeable thoughts. 

On reaching home. Miss Clevering went at 
once to the kitchen, and, taking the lid off the 


230 


THE CHRISTMAN 


range, said, ‘Tt’s too late now,’’ and threw Mr. 
Scantlebecker’s second epistle into the fire. 

‘‘What’s too late?” the maid asked, as she 
saw the red blaze. 

“Nothing,” returned the girl, “nothing.” At 
last the flame died down, and she spread the 
curled and blackened cinders with the lid lifter, 
and went to her room.. There she began dis- 
robing for bed, but her mind was in a turmoil, 
and she scarcely knew what she did. “It’s too 
late,” she repeated, “it’s too late. He’s never 
deceived me, and I’ll trust him in the face of 
the whole world. A Christian man cannot be 
a deceiver. To-morrow at this time I will be 
his wife. Love or no love, nothing now but 
death shall part us.” 

There was little rest for her that night. Roll- 
ing and tossing on her bed, she fell into fitful 
slumbers. Wild dreams floated through her 
mind. Sometimes she would start in her sleep 
as though about to escape from an impending 
catastrophe. Had any one been in the room 
they might have heard her moan at times the 
name of her betrothed and that of her pastor. 

There were others that spent the hours of 
darkness in wakefulness or disturbed repose. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


231 


Mr. Bowman was restless, but very happy. In 
his half-conscious moments he seemed to him- 
self to be living in a large and imposing house, 
and surrounded by every luxury that money 
could buy. Sometimes he laughed aloud in his 
sleep, and almost shouted for joy. Then he 
came to himself, and found that he was sitting 
up in bed, and immediately threw himself back 
on his pillow again to give loose rein to his 
pleasant imaginings. 

Mr. Clevering spent most of the night in 
pacing his room and moaning aloud, ^‘My poor, 
blind child ! My poor, blind child and praying 
for deliverance, but seeing no way by which de- 
liverance could come. 


232 


THE CHRISTMAN 


CHAPTER XVIII. 

WIIvT THOU HAVK THIS MAN? 

Shadows and sunshine chased each other 
over the trees and housetops of Rutherford on 
the day set apart for Maud Clevering's wed- 
ding. As the hour for the ceremony drew near, 
it was noticeable throughout the village that 
something of unusual interest was about to take 
place, for the streets, usually very quiet, were 
astir with life. Scores of men and women, 
dressed in their Sunday attire, were to be seen 
coming from all quarters of the town and mov- 
ing, as by one impulse, toward the principal 
thoroughfare, on which Mr. Osborn’s church 
was located. 

Carriages whirled backward and forward 
from the meeting-house to the homes of the 
people with a celerity that indicated that they 
were being used for business of unusual mo- 
ment. The drivers, sitting on their high seats, 


THE CHRISTMAN 


233 


or comfortably cornered on soft cushions, held 
themselves bolt upright, looking neither to the 
right hand nor to the left, as though conscious 
of their importance and of the weighty respon- 
sibilities resting on their shoulders. 

John Rhyder, with his wife and daughter, 
left his home three-quarters of an hour in ad- 
vance of the time set for the wedding. Calling 
for Mr. and Mrs. Treadwell, he proceeded on 
his way to the church, chatting with one and 
another as pleasantly as he felt was consistent 
with the dignity of the occasion. 

Laura Saunders and Miss Bruding, in evi- 
dent determination not to be outdone by others, 
had also started early, and were standing be- 
fore the church full fifteen minutes before the 
doors were open. 

Sam Runkle would have taken his wife in his 
new carriage, had it not been hired by others. 
As it was, he walked along with a doleful 
countenance, in token of the fact that he dis- 
approved of the whole proceeding. 

Mrs. Bubble, who was more showily dressed 
than any one else, almost ran, in her efforts to 
keep up with her husband ; but she did not suc- 
ceed, for, always a step in advance, he hurried 


^34 


THE CHRISTMAN 


along, looking back every few moments to ad- 
mire her appearance and urge her to hurry. 

‘'Oh, isn’t this grand?” she exclaimed, be- 
tween her pantings, as she came into the main 
street and saw a number of her friends on their 
way to the church. “Don’t you remember, 
Oliver, the day that we were married, how it 
threatened rain all the morning, and how beau- 
tifully it cleared ofif just in time? Oh, I do like 
weddings so much? You remember, we had 
three railroad maggots — no, that’s not the 
word, but never mind — and one grubernational 
candy, candy date there, and how particular 
father was to keep out all who he said were 
partveneers and all that. Oh, it’s grand !” and 
she rattled on, panting and explaining. 

Dr. Brancher had waited until the last mo- 
ment, much to his wife’s annoyance, and then 
insisted on calling for Mr. and Mrs. Conover, 
who, he found, had left the house some time be- 
fore. As they turned away, a carriage contain- 
ing Mr. and Mrs. Hartwell whirled by. It was 
on its way to the parsonage to get Mrs. Osborn. 
Behind the carriage was another that was occu- 
pied by Mr. and Mrs. Crouch. 

^ Mrs. Cherpin, who consumed two hours in 


THE CHRISTMAN 


235 


dressing and fidgeting, and who paused every 
few moments in her preparations to charge her 
husband with being as slow as a Harlequin, at 
last succeeded in getting him started, and they 
hurried together to the very steps of the build- 
ing. 

The bridal party, with the exception of Mr. 
Clevering and his daughters, were at the church 
promptly, and went into the basement, there to 
await the coming of the bride. Mr. Bowman 
shut himself in a choir room back of the 
organ, where there was a small window, and 
where he could look out on the street. 

The building was filled to overflowing long 
before the time. The organist was in his place 
and began playing. Every few moments he 
nervously turned his head, as if he were anx- 
iously waiting for some signal that would indi- 
cate the arrival of the Clevering carriage. The 
ushers stood by the doors, keeping a passage 
open. 

Mr. Osborn sat quietly in the corner of the 
Sunday School room, trying to divert his mind 
by reading, but only glanced at the pages of the 
book that he held in his hand. He felt that he 
was about to unite the life of the truest, no- 


236 


THE CHRISTMAN 


blest young woman in the world, one whom he 
had once loved, and who would ever be his 
friend, with the most insincere and selfish man 
that he had ever met. 

He had spent many hours in prayer over the 
matter, and felt calm and restful, but sad about 
Maud’s unhappy prospects. He was sure that 
in some way God would overrule the marriage 
for good. 

The hands of the clock slowly passed the 
time appointed, and began to measure off the 
moments of delay. Men thought of business 
engagements, and consulted their watches ; 
women fidgeted in their seats and whispered to 
their companions. Those on the sidewalk 
looked up the street to catch the first sign of the 
expected vehicle. 

Mr. Bowman, who had kept his face pressed 
against the pane of glass in the window for a 
long time, became anxious, and began to pace 
up and down the small room he occupied, with 
furrowed brow, pausing every few moments to 
look out on the street. As the time passed his 
nervousness increased, the seams in his fore- 
head deepened, and he began muttering to him- 
self that women were all a set of idiots about 


THE CHRISTMAN 


237 


keeping engagements. Then he shook his fist 
at the organ pipes, as though they were to 
blame for the delay, and asserted, with an oath, 
that when Maud became his wife, he’d teach 
her a lesson or two about promptness, so that 
she’d never forget. 

Ten, twenty, thirty minutes passed, still there 
was no sign of the carriage. Some one went 
to the nearest telephone station, and called up 
the woman who had been left in charge of Mr. 
Clevering’s house, and received word that the 
carriage had started forty-five minutes before. 

Another fifteen minutes passed. Mr. Bow- 
man’s anger grew more intense, and he de- 
clared, with a perfect volley of oaths, that he 
would like to give Maud a piece of his mind, 
and pay her back for insulting all his friends 
and all the guests by her dilatoriness, and that 
when he got her in his clutches he’d make her 
squirm, or his name wasn’t Bowman. 

‘T haven’t played ladies’ man and boot licker 
all these months to be set up at last for a laugh- 
ing stock by a religious fanatic in skirts and 
frills,” he declared, ‘"and I won’t stand it. 
After to-day I’m free from petticoat rule, and 
she’ll know it.” 


238 


THE CHRISTMAN 


He went on in this way for some time, vio- 
lently charging his prospective bride with wil- 
ful delay, and inexcusable conceit, calling her 
father an old dolt and cad, and her sister a noo- 
dle, when suddenly wheels were heard, and 
he leaped to the window. Almost at the same 
moment Raymond Hazzard pushed open the 
choir-room door and called out that the Clever- 
ings had come. 

Mr. Bowman grabbed a whiskbroom, rap- 
idly brushed his clothes, readjusted his cravat 
before a small looking-glass that hung on the 
wall, and went downstairs. 

Miss Clevering was handing her wraps to an 
attendant when he met her. His anger had not 
abated, and he glared at her savagely, and 
shook his head, as, with an oath, he growled: 
‘'Maud, you’re a fool! What does all this 
mean ? Keeping us waiting for nearly an hour. 
It’s an inexcusable outrage.” Then he swore 
at her again and, turning, went downstairs and 
through the basement with Mr. Hazzard to 
meet Mr. Osborn and enter the church. 

The chaplet of orange blossoms in the girl’s 
hair, and the bouquet of bridal roses, with lilies 
of the valley and maidenhair fern, that she car- 


THE CHRISTMAN 


239 


ried in her hand, seemed a fitting ornament to 
one whose grace of manner and dignity of per- 
son was so pronounced. No bride could be 
more beautiful. Of medium height and per- 
fect form, with dark auburn hair that waved 
back from a forehead that indicated unusual 
intelligence and spiritual purposes, she turned 
and looked at her companions. A moment be- 
fore her bright and expressive features shone 
with the joy of her heart in the prospect of be- 
coming the wife of a man in whom she had 
perfect faith; but now a cloud rested on her 
countenance. Her eyes filled with tears, which 
she held back with forced resolution. With- 
out speaking, she turned to her father, who 
was to give her away, and taking his arm 
walked down the aisle behind her attendants. 

What was it about her that caused the peo- 
ple to turn and gaze in astonishment. Brides 
are not infrequently nervous and pallid, but 
Maud Clevering's tread was firm. On her 
brow rested great drops of sweat, and there 
was a set look to her face as she turned her eyes 
appealingly toward her father. She heeded not 
the crowd, nor the flowers, nor the organ, from 


240 


THE CHRISTMAN 


which there rolled forth the wedding march, as 
step by step she neared the waiting minister. 

There was a moment’s silence. The music 
had ceased. In clear tones Mr. Osborn began 
his address to the people ; then came his charge 
to the betrothed. Finally he asked: 

^'Oswald, wilt thou have this woman to thy 
wedded wife, to live together after God’s or- 
dinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt 
thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her 
in sickness and health, and, forsaking all oth- 
ers, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both 
shall live?” 

He paused, and Mr. Bowman answered in a 
strong voice, will.” 

Then, turning to the bride, he asked : ^'Maud, 
wilt thou have this man to thy wedded hus- 
band, to live together after God’s ordinance in 
the holy estate of matrimony ? Wilt thou obey 
him, and serve him, love, honor and keep him 
in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all 
others, keep thee only unto him, as long as ye 
both shall live?” 

There was perfect silence for a moment, then 
in a voice scarcely audible she answered, will 
not.” 


THE CHRISTMAN 


241 


Mr. Osborn could hardly believe his senses. 
Had he mistaken her words, or had she mis- 
understood him ? 

A tremor of surprise, uncertainty and be- 
wilderment passed over the congregation. The 
people bent forward to catch every word. 

Slowly the minister repeated his question, 
pausing between each sentence, and waited for 
a reply. 

During the second reading she had gained 
more confidence, so that when he had finished 
speaking, she looked directly in his face and 
answered in a loud, clear tone of voice, ‘T will 
not.’’ Then she added, ‘'Mr. Osborn, if you 
will accompany me to the chapel, I will ex- 
plain.” 

Astonished beyond measure, Mr. Clevering 
and Mr. Bowman followed her to the Sunday 
School room, while the people waited in breath- 
less suspense. 

When the door was closed and they were 
alone, Maud turned to Mr. Osborn and said : 

“Over an hour ago I started from home in a 
carriage, with my father and my sister. As we 
were driving around by the Aqueduct, the 
horses shied. A newspaper that had been car- 


242 


THE CHRISTMAN 


ried by the wind against a bush by the road- 
side frightened them. Swerving toward the 
railroad excavation, they become unmanage- 
ble. One of the front wheels struck a large 
rock, and we were nearly thrown down the em- 
bankment; indeed, the carriage did slip, and 
was only prevented from falling by a log that 
was in the way. Our driver showed a great 
deal of presence of mind. If it had not been 
for his quick action, we should probably have 
lost our lives. As it was, the carriage was se- 
riously injured, and we were obliged to send 
for another before we could proceed. This 
took time, as nearly all the carriages in Ruth- 
erford had been engaged for the wedding. 
When we reached the church, Mr. Bowman met 
me in the vestibule. He had caused me to be- 
lieve that he was an upright man and a sincere 
Christian. In that belief I consented to be- 
come his wife. His public confession of faith 
and activity in church work served to confirm 
his words. I trusted him and gave him my 
heart. Rumors had reached me that he was 
not the man that he appeared to be, but I re- 
fused to believe them. I felMhat I knew him 
better than did his traducers. When I entered 


THE CHRISTMAN 


243 


the church with the purpose of fulfilling my 
pledge and becoming his wife, he met me in a 
towering rage and, without waiting for any ex- 
planation, he charged me with intentional delay 
and used language that was both abusive and 
insolent, calling me a fool, and cursing me with 
unwarranted rudeness and profanity. I was 
stunned by his violent language. The whole fal- 
sity of his profession was revealed in a moment. 
The flood-tide of love and confidence that I had 
given him seemed to be suddenly set back by 
the powers of darkness, and I shrank from him 
as from an enemy. I was compelled to decide 
on my course of action in the short time that it 
took to walk down the aisle. His words made 
marriage impossible, but it was not until you 
asked me whether I would become his wife that 
I saw my way clear, and had strength to speak. 
My resolution is fixed. I will never marry Mr. 
Bowman. Father, will you please see that my 
carriage is called to the side door.” 

‘‘But, Maud! Maud!” Mr. Bowman ex- 
claimed. “Surely you do not mean this. You 
are not in earnest. You know that I did not 
understand. Had you explained, it would have 
been all right. I know that I was hasty. I 


244 


THE CHRISTMAN 


ought not to have lost control of myself, but it 
is too late now to go back on your pledge. You 
will not disgrace me before the public, oh, I 
know you will not. It would be cruel.’’ 

‘‘Father, will you please call the carriage?” 
she repeated firmly. Her second charge was 
unnecessary, for the old man had already sent 
a messenger. 

She turned to step toward the door where the 
vehicle was waiting, when suddenly she paused 
and said : “Mr. Osborn, you will greatly oblige 
me by explaining matters to the guests. Say 
what you think best. I know that you will not 
make any announcement that will hurt Mr. 
Bowman unnecessarily, but tell the truth — tell 
the truth !” 


THE CHRIS'fMAN 


245 


CHAPTER XIX. 

IN THE STONEKITIv VAEEEY. 

When Mr. Bowman saw the Clevering car- 
riage whirl down the street, he at once entered 
his own vehicle and ordered his driver to fol- 
low. Arriving at the house, he asked to see 
Maud, but she refused to meet him, and her 
father, coming forward, ordered him away. 
Well knowing the firmness of the family, he 
made up his mind that it would be useless to 
seek reconcilation, and he went to his boarding 
place and changed his clothes. Then he packed 
his trunk and expressed it to Newkirk City. 

Hurrying to Cranston, he called at an auction 
house and sold his office furniture. By noon 
the next day he had left town and was never 
known to return. 

The whole village was in a ferment of ex- 
citement over the affair. Sam Runkle declared 
that it was a riddle that he could not explain, 


246 


THE CHRISTMAN 


but that Clevering’s plucky daughter probably 
knew what she was about. 

Mrs. Conover remarked that the refusal of 
Maud at the last moment reminded her of a 
similar occurrence, when a cousin of hers was 
taken ill on her wedding day, and that, before 
she had recovered, her engagement was broken. 

Mrs. Cherpin could not see why Mr. Bow- 
man should make such a Quaker of himself 
just before he was going to take his marriage 
vow, but Mr. Cherpin thought both Mr. Bow- 
man and Miss Clevering were all right. 

Mrs. Rhyder said that it was a bad match 
from the beginning, and that any one might ex- 
pect that such a wretchedly balanced courtship 
would end as it did. 

Mrs. Bubble declared that she never had such 
a trilling experience in her life than when she 
heard Miss Clevering say, ‘T will not,’’ and her 
husband rejoined that he would have to con- 
fess that the girl’s refusal was a great surprise 
to him, but he knew that in some way it would 
accrue to the benefit of all concerned. 

Mr. Osborn and his mother said nothing. 
Elder Root and his friends and the members of 


THE CHRISTMAN 


247 


the Hartwell and Treadwell families were also 
silent 

Mr. Clevering remained in the house. Those 
who were near him observed that he spent 
much time in reading and quiet thought. He 
was also heard to give utterance to the expres- 
sion, ‘‘Thank God ! Thank God when walking 
through the halls and about the rooms. 

Maud would not talk to any one on the sub- 
ject, and received calls only from her most in- 
timate friends. 

In a short time Mr. Clevering took his two 
daughters and went abroad for the winter. 

Weeks and months passed. The church 
grew in power and influence. A deeper, spir- 
itual interest was manifested in every depart- 
ment of work. Mr. Osborn, calm, radiant and 
hopeful, went about his duties, loving all and 
beloved by all. Faithfully and simply he min- 
istered to the people, and preached without af- 
fectation or artificial eloquence. His sermons 
always showed careful preparation, serious pur- 
pose and great heart power. They were as di- 
vine messages that compelled attention and ac- 
tion, and men and women yielded to the word 
as it fell from his lips. 


248 


THE CHRISTMAN 


The Son of God took possession of him in 
power, the preacher became a messenger, the 
messenger a minister, and the minister a Christ- 
man filled with the Holy Spirit. 

When the winter had passed and the summer 
came Mrs. Osborn expressed a strong desire to 
spend the vacation season at Greenville. Her 
son was not aware that she had heard that the 
Clevering family were to be at the Stonekill 
Inn for two months before returning to Ruther- 
ford. Had he been informed of the fact, he 
might have hesitated before consenting to his 
mother’s wishes, not knowing but that his mo- 
tives would be misunderstood. As it was, he 
engaged rooms at the same hotel. 

Many were the rambles in the woods and up 
the mountain paths that Mr. Osborn took with 
Miss Clevering that summer; and frequent 
were the talks of home and work that they had 
while sitting beneath the trees and beside the 
rippling waters of the Stonekill. 

One day, a week before his return, Mr. Os- 
born invited Miss Clevering to climb the rag- 
ged road with him that led to the cottage and 
booth of Abel Southgate. After a brief visit 
the cripple led them to a rocky path back of tlie 


THE CHRISTMAN 


24g 


pine trees that descended to the foot of a beau- 
tiful waterfall within a deeply shaded glen. It 
was a place that was frequently sought by 
summer visitors, and that was particularly at- 
tractive to the young minister. Assisting Miss 
Clevering down over the roots and stones, he 
finally reached the bottom of the decline, and 
sought out a large boulder, where they could 
sit together and watch the sheet of foaming 
water that poured over a ledge of rocks above. 
The constant roar of the cascade mingled with 
the splashing of the rapids gave a wild, sombre 
music to the place, and they remained silently 
watching the rolling foam and rising spray for 
a long time. 

The rock on which they were seated was 
round and ^smooth, and after a time Miss 
Clevering found herself slipping; quickly she 
stretched out her hand and grasped her com- 
panion’s arm. Mr. Osborn was pleased, looked 
down at her with a smile, and pressed her 
hand close to his heart. She turned her eyes 
toward him, and in an instant noticed that he 
was gazing at her with the same serious, lov- 
ing, contemplative expression that he had the 
day he took her hand in Mrs. Greaves’ house. 


THE CHRISTMAN 


250 

The blood mounted to her cheeks as then, but 
she did not withdraw her arm, and he pressed 
it closer and asked : 

‘‘Maud, won’t you let me take care of you — 
always?” 

She made no answer, and he went on, “I 
have loved you for a long time.” 

Still she was silent, but made no attempt to 
relinquish her hold. 

“Maud, won’t you please fell me that I may 
have you for my own?” he pleaded. 

She looked up at him. There was no need 
of an answer, for her face showed the consent 
of her heart. 

“Come!” she said, “let us go back to the 
Inn.” 

He climbed down from the rock and 
stretched out his hands to help her. She 
grasped them and leaped to the mossy slope be- 
low. Instead of relinquishing his hold, he 
drew her close to his heart. She looked up and 
smiled. Bending, his lips met hers, and the 
bondage of their hearts sealed itself in the kiss 
of love. 








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